


Golden Lions

by VTheTrashKing



Series: Golden Lions [1]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Blood and Gore, Canon Compliant, Claude von Riegan is a Little Shit, Fluff and Humor, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Light Angst, Lorenz Gets Bullied: The Fic, Love Confessions, Minor Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier, Multi, Polyamory, Pre-Timeskip | Academy Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Slight Canon Divergence, Spoilers for Pre-Timeskip | Academy Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Video Game Mechanics, Violence occurs near the end, Wordcount: 10.000-30.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-11
Updated: 2020-06-11
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:27:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 25,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24655324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VTheTrashKing/pseuds/VTheTrashKing
Summary: Dimitri stands before Claude's door, hoping to confess his feelings.He does, and is inducted as an honorary member of the Golden Deer, and things change as a result.
Relationships: Claude von Riegan/Ignatz Victor, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Claude von Riegan, Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier, Golden Deer Students & Claude von Riegan, Hilda Valentine Goneril/Claude von Riegan, Leonie Pinelli/Claude von Riegan, Lorenz Hellman Gloucester/Claude von Riegan, Lysithea von Ordelia/Claude von Riegan, Marianne von Edmund/Claude von Riegan, Raphael Kirsten/Claude von Riegan
Series: Golden Lions [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1843606
Comments: 14
Kudos: 46





	Golden Lions

**Author's Note:**

> As I mentioned in the tags: the Graphic Depictions of Violence only occurs towards the end and in a section with Dedue's Paralouge.
> 
> Moving on, I wrote this in like six days after the Golden Deer have stolen me away, seriously the GD's B sups with Marianne are just too sweet to pass up, so now I either believe they're like a family unit or just together. Speaking of the Golden Deer, in game, NG+ White Clouds is an absolute JOKE, I mean, beating most of the mission maps under 10 turns, or at the very least a little over? And do NOT get me started on the GD units (and Ferdinand von Aegir), they just keep critting at scary low percents, every single time Claude is like: "Shall we dance?!" or "Enough is enough!" I'm like: Claude, how do you keep doing this without fail?
> 
> Please enjoy!

Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd stood before an unassuming, innocent wooden door. Behind the door, faint familiar fumes slipped past the paper thin seam of the door. If he strained his ears enough, Dimitri overheard soft mutterings of ‘Where is it? Oh, there it is.’ 

This simple wooden door was the blockade to Claude’s dorm room.

In reality, the damned door was a flimsy reinforcement that Dimitri could unintentionally rip off its hinges. In Dimitri’s fractured mind, it was a different story. The wooden door changed into an unforgiving, ice cold steel wall.

Dimitri stared the door down. Anxiety crept along his skin, festering into his body like a wildfire. 

All Dimitri wanted to do was confess to Claude. To tell him how and why he fell in _love_ with him. 

It should have been an easy process.

Step One: Ignore the ghosts screaming at Dimitri, roaring in agony and demanding him to turn tail and _leave._ Demanding him to push past his feelings, while also hearing hasty teasing and taunting words of encouragement. 

Step Two: Gently open the door. 

Step Three: Tell Claude.

As for the fourth step, Dimitri surmised power walking out the door.

The things Dimitri wanted to say bubbled around his skull, written out like the papers he sometimes had to do in class. Lengthy, detailed words spiraling into his brain, drilling his directionless thoughts into poetry. His lips formed a vowel.

Dimitri doubted he had the grace and confidence to run through his feelings like that to Claude. Surely, his spoken words would be as incoherent and messy as his mind.

But, it was true.

Dimitri _did_ love Claude.

It was shameful to admit to himself, to realize he loved a boy. The same gender as him. It almost felt _wrong_ in a plethora of ways, because of _who_ he was. _What_ he was in truth, hiding away under the guise of a perfect, charming prince. It really didn’t help that same sex relationships were uncommon or even thought of as disgusting.

At least its negative perception and Dimitri had something in common. Disgusting. He was a _nasty,_ horrific beast hiding in plain sight. 

Dimitri was a prince, meant to marry and continue the Blaiddyd bloodline. A future king. Claude was _also_ a prince, or rather a heir to Dukedom. If they were to court each other, it was a possibility that the political sphere would keel over, crying in pure disbelief and outrage. 

Of course, Dimitri’s ghosts disagreed with his sliver of rational thinking. Glenn, for a moment looked normal. No blood, no gore. Just how he appeared a day before he was killed.

Glenn scoffed at Dimitri, rolling his eyes.

“You want that boy. Forget your future for a second and look at what you want _now._ It’s him, right? You _want_ him. Calm down, give yourself a moment and just _go._ Tell him, you fool.”

Dimitri bit at his bottom lip, furrowing his eyebrows. Glenn waited impatiently, watching Dimitri essentially waste his time. 

Dimitri thought back to his crushing realization. When he found out he liked men. As a child, he had a few stray thoughts about boys. While the children around him, and scarily _Sylvain,_ at the time gossiped about pretty girls, Dimitri was only somewhat interested. His ten year old self deemed girls much too soft for his hands, for he could break a training sword much too easily. Without even knowing the word for it, Dimitri thought girls were delicate, almost. Too small and too easy to harm. Of course, female warriors had sprung about like grass, disproving Dimitri’s innocent, child-like notions.

Dimitri remembered seeing Felix and Sylvain for the first time. Sylvain and his fiery red hair, holding them close, treating Dimitri and his childhood friends like siblings, taking care of every little problem they had while ignoring his own. Felix, dark blue, almost inky black hair reflecting his demeanor as a child, prone to crying at almost anything. Having a crying fit simply because they were too busy to play with him, or at the _worst,_ sobbing hard at the growing bruises Sylvain hid away from them, claiming he just magically fell down the stairs. 

At first sight, Dimitri thought they were _cute._ His feelings on the pair were quick to shift into something familial, giving no time to dwell on his first impression.

Even Dedue caught Dimitri’s eye, but he repressed it into the back of his mind, so that he could appease his terrified, _angry_ ghosts.

Of course, when Dimitri first laid eyes on Claude, those years of repression shattered like glass.

By _Sothis,_ Claude was beautiful. Absolutely _breathtaking._

Perhaps it was strange of Dimitri to call another boy beautiful, but truly, to him, Claude _was_ beautiful.

Claude’s messy, curly brown hair, softly bouncing with every move he made, the short, neatly done braid trailing after his movements. The amount of times Dimitri wanted to sink his fingers into those dark brown locks were almost worrying. The amount of times he wished to know how soft Claude’s hair was, to feel the texture of Claude’s lone braid, wondering how he got it braided in the first place as Claude’s hair was rather short.

Claude’s latte caramel skin had Dimitri internally crying for _hours._ He _never_ saw such a skin color on _anyone_ else, not too light or dark, just right in the middle. _Maybe,_ just maybe it was odd to sing praises of Claude’s skin color. Especially since Claude _casually_ let it slip one day that he was persecuted _because_ of his skin color, because of his mixed blood. 

Amongst the sea of injustice and empathy Dimitri felt for Claude, in the back of his mind, he found himself distracted by Claude’s skin color.

Then, there was his eyes. Vibrant pine and emerald. People have said eyes were the window to the soul, and it could have been true. Just not for Claude, at first. Those windows did not open whatsoever, instantly shifting into permanently shut stained glass. Not a single glass panel was left open. The emerald green stained glass windows devolved into a single color, even as it was caught in the sun, frosting over like Faerghus’ ice cold, freezing winters. Dull green was left in the shining mosaic’s wake, playing chess with countless, unassuming, easy to fool players. Watching what they said, how they said their words, keeping the black pawn chess pieces surrounding the king as said king calculated their opponent’s actions. Their true intentions. 

But when that stained glass _did_ open, it was amazing to watch. To see, in real time, the floodgates of emotion flow through, no longer hints or blink-and-you’ll-miss it minuscule reactions dancing in Claude’s eyes. The crinkle around his eyes, a goofy little smile tugging at his lips, a _real_ laugh bubbling from his throat.

Dimitri remembered making Claude absolutely _lose_ it. All the future king of Faerghus had to do was something out of character. Out of the realm of Claude’s possibility. Making an utter fool of himself as he stripped away his prince charming persona.

After encountering Claude tending to a, frankly _suspicious_ patch of plants in the greenhouse, Dimitri was curious enough to ask what he was doing. As Dimitri already expected, Claude only fed him half-truths, so to get Claude more comfortable, in the most _serious_ tone Dimitri had inquired which plants were safe to eat. At first, Claude glanced at him weird, a crooked smile on his lips, a raised eyebrow-

By the _Goddess,_ Claude’s _eyebrows._

-Claude jokingly responded with weeds, pointing over to the clumps of weeds growing near the Professor’s patch of multicolored flowers. 

Dimitri got Claude’s attention by leaving his post near the boy, walking towards the budding flower patch. He carefully plucked the messy, tangled weeds, taking a handful. Dimitri turned to face Claude, looking him directly in the eye, fighting to keep a neutral expression. He shoveled the weeds into his mouth like a man starved, leaving behind a thin blade of drying grass between his lips. To avoid choking, Dimitri actually _ate_ them.

Claude’s reaction was _priceless._

His entire face froze in place, slightly parting his lips as his cold green eyes warmed with heat, flying wide open in pure disbelief. A hint of a grin grew on his face, the corner of his lips twitching upwards. Silence _briefly,_ so very briefly filled the greenhouse, before giving way to a soft wheeze from Claude. In mere seconds, the Golden Deer leader’s near dying wheeze shifted into roaring, unrestrained laughter. His laughter left him breathless, hiccuping as Claude watched Dimitri swallow with a shy smile, falling backwards on the stone floor, choking out quiet squeaks. 

Aside from Claude’s looks, it was his voice and personality that sealed Dimitri’s fate. Claude starkly reminded him of fairy tale creatures. A mix between a haunting, beautiful siren and a mischievous little fairy. The way he would weave his words into a neat blanket, not a thing out of place, enveloping a person with a false sense of warmth. The way he pretended to give his trust, feigning a casual, friendly air to gain information. The schemes he would think up and _could_ execute, allowed or not. 

Charmed or lured, Dimitri would gladly let that happen. Being tricked, glowing yellow dust sprinkled by the trail Claude left in his wake, pleading for him to give his valuables up, smirking as Dimitri just would have. Being drowned in gray, still waters, following a hypnotic, sorrowful yet playful song. A hand holding his, dragging him into the depths, stripping him of his birthright.

Dimitri shook his head, hand reaching out for the door, ready to knock.

The sole reason Dimitri even _considered_ confessing was Sylvain and Felix. Felix, who wanted nothing to do with him, out of fear, out of worry, knowing what hid behind a smiling, mentally-not-fraying-at-the-edges prince. Unable to bridge the gap between them, to talk, heart to heart. Sylvain, on a path to self-destruction, honeyed words, dripping with a tinge of _bitter_ black sludge, only to turn around and help his childhood friends, his bound by bonds _family_ when they needed him but never had the words to ask for Sylvain. Sylvain and Felix, who both managed to open their endless sea of internal issues, sparring as they yelled out their sorrows in the training grounds, late at night. Hushed conversations that Dimitri overheard in his room, making sure to never breathe a word to them, out of respect for their privacy. 

The oil and water pair chased after one another, even as the roles reversed, physically running in and out the hallways, with Sylvain gunning after Felix to catch up with him. It mirrored their relationship, too, dancing and dashing after each other, until one day, Felix changed their long friendship for good. Felix, more or less, dragged Sylvain out the Blue Lions classroom for several minutes, came back with his pinky intertwined with Sylvain’s, looking as smug and faintly relieved as he could be. He stared ahead, not willing to meet a single person’s eye as a hot pink blush dusted over his pale face, crumbling the smug expression into something light and bashful.

They were together, and from there, Sylvain’s careless skirt chasing into a self-imposed hell diminished day by day, flat out ignoring their advances, in favor of the crying, emotional boy turned sharp as steel, yet secretly kind in his own blunt way. Sylvain traded his wax poetic for earnest words, ripping his mask off and shattering it.

Apparently, now that they were a couple, they saw Dimitri pine over Claude, checking the metaphorical boxes as Sylvain _somehow_ managed to convince Felix to join him in his amazing plan of ‘spy on our childhood friend.’ They watched Dimitri make a fool of himself, easily getting flustered or staring at Claude when he thought he wasn’t looking. However, Claude wasn’t one to be fooled, so the boy _already_ knew Dimitri was staring, but never mentioned it.

After watching Dimitri flail around for about three or four months, the couple took pity on him. Or at least, Sylvain did. Felix just laughed at him. Dimitri let him, missing the sound of Felix’s laughter, not a scoff or a sharp laugh through his nose, honest to Sothis _laughter_ that sounded like a witch’s cackle. Felix sobered up somewhat, still letting out chuckles at Dimitri’s expense. He rolled his eyes so hard that Dimitri was worried they'd stay stuck. Felix pointed at him, as if to accuse him, as if to challenge him to a sparring match.

“Get a boyfriend, I’m sick of that look in your eyes.”

Felix had told him. Sylvain went on to explain, clearing up Felix’s blunt, harsh words, but Dimitri already knew what Felix _really_ meant.

“Come on, Mitya, let yourself be happy for once, go after him.” Was the words hidden between the lines, clear as day, only decoded because of their friendship, strained or not.

With Sylvain’s gentle encouragement and push, no pretty words in sight and Felix’s warm advice disguised as vitriol and animal metaphors, they convinced Dimitri to let his feelings fly free. 

Which was how Dimitri found himself standing before Claude’s door, pieces of wrapped chocolates in a small satchel, along with a dagger with a golden yellow hilt. Felix had bought the chocolates, quite literally pushing them into Dimitri’s chest, looking away as he grumbled, “Go, boar.” Sylvain, to this day, _never_ let Dimitri live it down that he gave his step-sister a dagger before she departed, handing him a dagger with a teasing grin on his face, winking at his childhood friend. “Get ‘her’ for good, this time!” Sylvain had laughed, rushing off after Felix.

Dimitri took a breath, briefly closing his eyes. He steeled himself, mind rolling with the expectation of a casual and crushing rejection.

Dimitri gently knocked on the door.

Light footsteps came barreling closer to the door, fumbling over the _thunk_ of books being accidentally kicked at.

Dimitri visited Claude’s room often, usually in the middle of the night when sleep was near impossible to come by. Every single time, Dimitri was baffled at the state of Claude’s room, always, _always_ messy. Books strewn along the floor, half open or closed, sometimes stacked into a small pile in the corner of his room or on his desk. His muted yellow blanket slipping off his bed, never made whatsoever unless Dimitri fixed it for him, and of course, when Dimitri returned to his room, it remained undone in various ways of disarray. His pillow teetered along the edge of his bed, a book in place of the pillow by the headboard. If Sylvain _ever_ stepped foot in Claude’s room, Dimitri imagined his childhood friend having a meltdown, forcing himself to be polite in the face of the golden chaos haunting his obsessively neat freak eyes.

The door opened. Claude’s expression was entirely neutral until he set his eyes on Dimitri stiffly standing in front of him. His green eyes warmed, happy, as his lips curled into a smile.

“What brings you here so early in the afternoon, Your Princeliness?” Claude asked as he moved to the side, letting Dimitri come into his room.

Dimitri’s eyes drifted to the closed windows, then to Claude, then to a random book.

“Oh.” Dimitri eloquently began, somehow losing both his ingrained public speaking skills and first language. 

Claude humored him, raising a single eyebrow, patiently waiting for Dimitri to continue.

Dimitri was no coward, _yet_ the door behind him was _so_ very close. 

Dimitri glanced at Claude again, a bright red blush steadily rising to his pale face, dusting his cheeks and the tips of his ears pink. He hastily took out the dagger and a chocolate from his dark blue satchel, internally marveling and screeching when his Crest didn’t activate. 

Claude eyed the gifts in Dimitri’s gauntleted hands.

Dimitri drew in another breath.

“I came to tell you that I wish to be with you, Claude.”

Surprisingly, Dimitri’s delivery wasn’t as shaky as he thought, as he _felt_ on the inside. 

Straightforward, firm and passionate. Not fast and jumbled like his speeding heartbeat, not screaming to _finally_ get this burning feeling off his chest and in the open. 

Claude’s happy little smile stretched into a teasing, adoring grin.

“Oh my, Dimitri, my heart is _fluttering,_ ” Claude pitched his voice high like a girl’s, and Dimitri wanted to both die and float on a cloud with how easy Claude can change his voice on a whim, “such a charming wordsmith declaring his love like a vow for little old me.”

“Claude!” Dimitri stressed, getting more red in the face by Claude’s teasing words.

Claude laughed softly.

“I’m only joking, Dima, I promise. Besides, I figured that out a _while_ ago.”

_What?_

“Figured it out.” Dimitri echoed, instead of letting his brain rudely conjure ‘What?’ out loud.

“Yep,” Claude said, popping the ‘p,’ a dewy, soft smile settling on his lips, “it was adorable and _just_ a little funny to watch.”

Dimitri’s head was spinning.

“I told you, my cute lion,” Claude _casually_ said aloud, lighting Dimitri on _fire,_ “you’re much too easy to read, sometimes. You wear everything you feel on your sleeve, that anger of yours, the happiness, too. At first, I denied the thought of you liking me, and in turn, I denied the thought of _me_ liking _you,_ ” Claude frowned, gesturing to his skin, “but then my Deer nearly kicked my sorry butt into gear, reminding me of one simple fact.”

Dimitri listened, staring at Claude curiously. Claude held his azure gaze, rubbing the back of his neck. Faint red spread across his cheeks as an embarrassed smile wormed its way onto his face.

“I may or may not have foreseen falling in love with my Deer in the process of dancing around my feelings for you.”

“What?”

_Falling in love with my Deer._

Oh.

Claude already had-

He _already_ had people by his side, _good_ people. People that accepted him without question, loved him without a second thought. 

Dimitri had no place in Claude’s heart. Someone as horrific, revenge-driven and _fake_ as him, _something_ like him didn’t belong with a deer, ready to prance away at the sight of danger. At the sight of a lion prowling around, hiding among a close-knit family of prey.

Dimitri wasn’t a good person, not a good _anything_ but a killer in the making. 

Claude had people like his Golden Deer.

Lorenz, pretentious as a high tide, waving his nobility like a flag, endlessly proud. Getting insight on Lorenz via Claude, through teasing yet fond stories, joking about his bad haircut, only to whisper his praises in the next second. Despite Lorenz’s pride, the young noble was achingly sweet, helping Leonie when she injured her foot, hurrying to give her ointment and a handkerchief, kneeling by her feet without any regard for what it might have looked like. How Lorenz took Raphael’s simple way of thinking into practice, dining with others, talking away. How Lorenz offhandedly mentioned to Ignatz that he could be a knight who happens to paint, essentially telling him he didn’t have to let go of his hobby just yet.

Hilda, at first glance, lazy as a sloth, unwilling to try at the easiest of tasks, twirling words and a lock of hair to convince others to do things for her. Yet in turn, helping others, including her fellow Deer. Teaching Marianne to organize books, making a charm bracelet with Leonie, hitting her need for sentimentality, weaving new memories with the hunter. Advising Raphael to craft something pretty for his little sister, only to stare in fond disbelief when he returned weeks later with two crates filled with well made jewels, beads and a few fresh flowers. Despite not wanting to work a day in her life, Hilda cooked up a wonderful necklace for Raphael’s sister, smiling at the endless praise he gave her. Claude kept her reasons of laziness a secret, even to Dimitri, evading his curious questions with a wink and sugary, genuine words.

Lysithea, a tiny girl with a sharp tongue and a secret sweet tooth, in Dimitri’s eyes, mirroring Felix’s personality. She was the youngest student in Garreg Mach, exceptionally skilled with Reason magic, mastering dark and black magic spells with ease that even baffled Annette. Lysithea focused on Faith magic as well, but Dimitri had not a single clue as to why. She was young, only fifteen and yet demanded everyone treat her as an adult, or at least the same age as the rest of the student body. She didn’t mince her words, never coating them like the sweets she unsubtly tried to hide enjoying. However, like the sweets she indulged in, Lysithea _was_ kind, setting herself straight after her outbursts, explaining and apologizing. Giving Marianne much needed advice, to start slow with her growth, relating to their hardships. Claude, just like Hilda’s secret, he kept Lysithea’s locked away, lacing his fondness for her with silly voices and teasing words. 

Marianne, a young woman as downcast as the color of her hair, meek and skittish, much like a doe. So painfully quiet, in terms of her soft voice and how uncommon it was to hear her speak. She would never know just what to say, never know how to smile, always keeping her head down, hunching her shoulders. She spoke so low of herself when talking to others, but maintained a kind and caring air to her when talking to a horse in the stables. Dorte, was the horse’s name, according to Claude. Marianne, slowly but surely made strides to become more positive, with the help of the Golden Deer. Claude, who prodded at her for her Crest, mostly to figure out her secrets. He then told her, pitching his voice to sound strange, almost pseudo-mocking her negative way of thinking, that if her family had a curse, it didn’t mean _she_ had one, too. 

Leonie, a dedicated hunter and mercenary in training, quick to be impatient, but in turn, quick to warm up to most people. She was a fire ready to spark and spread, competitive to a fault, ready to prove her worth. To no one’s surprise after speaking to her for _one_ second, Leonie greatly admired Jeralt, holding him in such high regard. She even formed a one-sided rivalry with the Professor. Dimitri thought Byleth would be overwhelmed by the constant one upping Leonie presented at every turn, unable to act other than stare at her with a blank, dead eyed look. Dimitri was wrong. The Professor didn’t just play along, they _encouraged_ Leonie to spar, whenever, wherever. The Professor shared a smile with the Blue Lions as they taught, smile growing fond as their eyes flicked to Leonie rushing through the door, aiming a training short spear at Byleth’s head. Byleth _kept_ instructing Dimitri and his Lions, _catching_ the wooden lance with ease. The Blue Lions stared on in disbelief as Byleth weaved out of the way, unsheathing the dagger slung by their hip. Their Professor danced and darted, throwing back the lance to properly fight Leonie in the middle of a _lecture._

Leonie was a double edged sword, blunt, brash and tomboyish, yet sweet and caring. Blowing up at Marianne and regretting it later, turning around to gently push her into talking with Leonie about _anything._ Laughing at Claude who _somehow_ managed to fail at washing dishes, only to accept Claude’s different perspective on religion in a more serious, quiet conversation. 

Ignatz, a sweet boy, much more sensitive and innocent than Dimitri could _ever_ be. Quiet, and at times, overly apologetic and skittish. Happy to help and careful not to intrude on anyone else. Like Dimitri, however, Ignatz set aside his aspirations, dismissing his love for art and painting as a simple hobby he would outgrow, thinking of it as a secret he had to hide away. Quite like how Dimitri desperately ignored the agonized wails of his ghosts, the non-existent smoke and ash tickling his nose, the bodies that lay at his feet in one moment and were gone by the time he blinked. How, during the night, if he wasn’t near Claude or even in his messy room turned a safe haven, Dimitri would give into his ghosts, promising to get revenge, silently pleading with them to give him more time, fingers digging into his blonde hair, threatening to _rip_ clumps out if he lost control of his Crest. That was where the similarities ended. Ignatz took into account simple things most people would overlook. A sea of beautiful flowers, reds, purples, blues and whites, sketching away under a tree, intently watching the flowers dance in the light breeze. Bringing Marianne outside to watch the evening sky, looking up to admire the blazing orange-yellow sun using the sky as its canvas, pinks, purples and oranges blending together. Softly telling Marianne to look up sometimes, to see the beauty in an unforgiving world. 

Raphael, broad shouldered, muscular and nearly as tall as Dedue. It was almost amazing to see someone as carefree and cheerful as Raphael. Knighthood, training and food were constantly on his mind, wholeheartedly dedicated to his career path under the simple guise of helping others. Clean cut and achingly _simple._ Unlike Dimitri, who _wasn’t_ here in Garreg Mach to become a knight, learning to become a better king in the near future. He felt _sick_ to his stomach, wishing he could be as simple, as _kind_ as Raphael, unburdened by almost anything, save for Ignatz avoiding him like the plague during the start of the year. 

Dimitri felt even _worse_ when Claude casually dropped Raphael’s parents perishing in an accident, with Raphael _right_ next to him, virtually unbothered, smiling away as if his parents weren’t dead and gone. Dimitri thought it too rude to ask of Raphael just _how_ he coped with such a loss, and apparently, he didn’t even _need_ to, as Raphael just granted the damned answer right away, worriedly glancing at Dimitri and lightly patting him on the shoulder. He just _moved_ on, just like that, holding onto his immediate family; his sister, and his grandfather. Shrugged his shoulders, not to disservice the dead, but to convey that he didn’t want to dwell in the past, he didn’t want to wallow in sadness. Raphael _wasn’t_ bitter. He wasn’t angry, going up and arms into finding the truth about his parents’ deaths, ready to stain his hands red forever. No. Instead, those hands offered help of any kind, excluding academic instruction. Doing whatever he could to lessen the burdens for his friends, giving his leftovers to Ignatz, much to his quiet protests, carrying nearly everything in Claude’s hands, the leader’s baffled expression going entirely unnoticed. He talked to the birds, cats and dogs in the monastery after catching Marianne do the same, lamenting as he reported that he wished to find an animal who could speak human, just like how Marianne supposedly found. 

What could Dimitri possibly offer?

 _What_ could a wild, ruthless animal like him _possibly_ give Claude?

Nothing.

 _Nothing,_ when he already _had_ his Deer.

Already opened his heart to them. He deserved them, people like them, so casual and supportive in their expressions of love, teasing, joking and complementing. 

Dimitri _hated_ the fact he was envious of them, of their good qualities. He hated that despite Claude offering his hard earned trust and love to _seven_ other people, he _still_ had feelings for him.

Dimitri swallowed, keeping his expression neutral with a faint smile like he wasn’t about to shatter.

“I see.”

Claude frowned at him for a moment, reading Dimitri like the many books in his room.

“I shall leave you, Claude,” Dimitri turned to the door as quick as lightning, “I’m happy you’ve found other pe-”

Claude tugged on Dimitri’s cape, pulling him back.

“Who said my heart doesn’t have room left for someone else?”

_What?_

“It’s like Raph said,” Claude breathed in, doing a scarily spot on impression of Raphael, “‘my heart’s seven sizes too big, or maybe it’s _super_ big like my muscles!’”

Claude continued, in his normal voice, soft yet firm, leaving no room for misinterpretation. Or self-doubt and self-depreciation on Dimitri’s end.

“I love you, too, Dimitri.”

Dimitri’s eyes went wide. Claude still liked him, despite having feelings for the Golden Deer, despite Dimitri not fitting in _anywhere_ within the gaggle of deer, marred by burdens and monstrous, callous emotions under his skin.

“Oh.”

A breath of a laugh filled Dimitri’s ears.

“Oh, _Dimitri._ I can plainly see the steam rising from your ears, you must still be jealous, or at the very least, in disbelief. Well, hey, don’t worry, it’s a good look on you. Besides, you don’t have to be with my Deer, just me, okay?”

“Okay.”

“You okay in there, Dima? Nod twice if you’re alright.”

“Um. Yes, I’m alright, Claude, just, I think, processing?”

Claude snorted, “That wasn’t a nod, but I’ll take it.”

Claude let go of Dimitri’s cape, choosing to drape himself over his back, resting his head in the crook of Dimitri’s neck. He sighed, almost forlornly.

“I owe Leonie and Hilda _so_ much in favors.”

“They bet on you?” Dimitri asked, incredulous. 

“Oh _yeah,_ fiends, the two of them. They bet a _heap_ of favors such as,” Claude pitched his voice to sound nearly like Hilda, “‘Claude! Be a dear and do _all_ my Saturday chores, thank you! Oh and don’t forget to braid my hair and buy me makeup,’” Claude then switched gears to do an impression of Leonie, “‘Hey, Claude, can you buy me this new bow and lance I found at the marketplace?’”

Claude laughed, “Anyway, my dear prince, get ready for a grand celebration after class in the next two to three days.”

“A celebration? You don’t need to, Claude.”

“Nah, I think you deserve one.”

Dimitri gave into his fate, “Very well.”

Claude grabbed a hold of Dimitri, wrapping him in a loose hug.

* * *

Dimitri tried his best to pay attention in class. He truly did, focusing on his Professor’s words and instruction. His brain decided to wander, making everything fade into the background. Pink sprinkled along his cheeks as his mind pushed imagery into the forefront. 

Holding Claude’s hand. 

Telling him pretty little things, hanging on every word Claude said.

 _Kissing_ Claude.

On his cheek, his forehead, his _lips._

“Dimitri?”

Dimitri snapped the quill in his right hand. He glanced up at Byleth, who looked briefly concerned. Their expression shifted into a knowing look that had Dimitri wishing he could sink into his chair.

“Yes, Professor?”

“Pay attention, Dimitri.”

“My apologies, I won’t let this happen again.”

Dimitri felt eyes boring into the back of his skull. Without even looking, he knew his Lions were staring right at him. Some, in worry, others knowing _exactly_ what was “wrong.”

Byleth’s lecture ended rather quickly, despite it feeling like it took _years_ to come to a close. When the students filtered out the classroom, Felix had glanced at Dimitri, scoffing, while Sylvain merely smirked, wiggling his eyebrows. 

Dimitri took out a small note from his person, re-reading the script. 

‘You’re invited to my room after class! ~~Fear~~ Feer the Deer! - Claude von Riegan.’

Claude’s signature ended with a quick sketch of his Crest, along with a pair of upside down antlers. 

Dimitri yet again stood before Claude’s door, ears picking up much more noise than before. Raphael’s boisterous laughter. Lorenz and Claude bickering, catching a hint of Lorenz’s offended scoff. Hilda and Leonie talking to Marianne, convincing her about something. A gift, Dimitri thought he heard. Lysithea heatedly ranting to Ignatz.

Dimitri knocked. The noises went quiet before roaring once more. Dimitri practically felt the excitement buzzing on the other side of the door, digging into his skin, making him feel giddy. The door swung open.

“Dimitri!” The Golden Deer called, with Ignatz and Marianne being quieter.

Dimitri stepped inside, marveling at the room. Dark blue banners weaved around the wooden walls, serving as a contrast to Claude’s golden yellow rug on the floor. Claude’s books were neatly packed to the side, with a few remaining on his bed and desk. _Everything_ in his room was neat and tidy to an insane degree. Even more surprising, gifts and little trinkets lay near the Golden Deer members or on their laps. Tambourines and mini horns rested in Leonie, Ignatz, Raphael and oddly enough, Lorenz’s hands. Claude rose from his bed, glancing at everyone in the room, before setting his gaze on Dimitri.

“Golden Deer,” Claude announced like a declaration, “begin the fanfare!”

Claude received an eye roll from Lysithea, a huff of a laugh from Lorenz. Horns blared softly into the room, with tambourines quickly joining in. Those without instruments thumped the floor with their fists like a roaring drumroll.

“Hear ye, hear ye! Today, we have snagged quite the wonderful prize! One blue lion for myself to have!” Claude began, smiling at a blushing Dimitri.

Claude continued, taking on a kingly voice while letting humor seep into his act.

“We welcome the prince of the Blue Lions House to our own _golden_ family as an honorary member of the Golden Deer!”

They cheered, following along with Claude’s antics.

“With that said, Your Loveliness, we have brought the most _gracious_ offerings to steal you away.”

Dimitri couldn’t help the smile spreading across his face, “Is that so?”

“It is so!”

Claude laughed, eyes crinkling, “Yeah, Renz, Lys and Hilda practically _screamed_ at the rest of us to get’cha something nice.”

“I merely said it was _appropriate_ to do so, Claude.” Lorenz reasoned.

Claude’s lips curved into a smile, dipped in honey. He glanced at Lorenz, communicating something to him, as the noble furiously blushed red, quietly stammering. Strangely, Claude’s eyes faintly glowed before fading away. He walked over to Lorenz, plopping down and sitting next to him. He planted a chaste kiss to his cheek, grinning as Lorenz was rendered speechless. 

Leonie laughed at Lorenz, shuffling to the pair and ruffling their hair. Lorenz squawked, while Claude just let it happen. 

Dimitri watched Lysithea hold Marianne’s hand, silently soothing her, tenderly smiling. Ignatz switched between glancing at his paper and the room, murmuring as he sketched away, anticipating Raphael clapping his back, setting his art supplies down when his hand came in contact with the painter. Ignatz didn’t even flinch, didn’t so much as move at the force of Raphael’s hand, despite the heavy _thud_ resounding in Dimitri’s ears. Ignatz only smiled, laughing as he straightened his glasses up to the bridge of his nose. 

Hilda sat by Marianne, resting her head in her lap, catching Dimitri’s stare with a grin. Blushing, Dimitri glanced away.

Marianne gingerly picked up a bouquet to her left, dark brown eyes pinned to the yellow roses in her hand. Her eyes anxiously flicked to Dimitri’s before shying away once more.

“You can do this, Mari, I’m _positive_ he’ll like the flowers.” Hilda softly encouraged, smiling up at her.

“Okay,” Marianne stuttered, repeating the word with a bit more confidence, “I, um, grew flowers with Dedue, I used Faith magic to make them grow faster, I, um, I hope you like them.”

Marianne set her nervous gaze to Dimitri again, voice even softer, “Dedue said yellow roses mean friendship,” Marianne paused, stuttering, “so um.”

Dimitri smiled brightly to ease her nerves.

“Thank you, Marianne, I greatly appreciate this. May I take them?”

Marianne’s eyes widened in surprise.

“You like them? I mean, um, you’re welcome. Here.”

Dimitri strolled forward, bending down to take the bouquet from Marianne’s hand. His smile dimmed, turning soft.

“Truly, I thank you.”

Marianne mumbled, heat rising to her pale face. 

With wide, giddy grins or soft as cotton balls smiles, the rest of the Golden Deer presented their gifts. Lorenz gave him a heap of Chamomile tea leaves, neatly packed in an intricate gray-blue jar, picked out by Ignatz. Leonie handed Dimitri a hunting knife, the blade a shining silver and the hilt a dark midnight blue. Hilda stole a glance at Dimitri’s simple metal clasp holding his cape, giving him a gold lion brooch to pin his cape onto his armor. Lysithea pushed a batch of spiced cookies into his arms, glaring him down and demanding he share them with her. Claude had helped her to make them. Ignatz and Raphael’s gift was a joint effort, a pair of _very_ well made gauntlets meant for fighting, citing how they saw him using gauntlets in battles over his lance. A dark blue braided hair tie came with it.

As for Claude’s gift, the Golden Deer leader simply hugged him, ruffling his hair and messing it up. 

“Three cheers for the Golden Lions!” Claude shouted with a laugh, chuckling even harder when his Deer followed suit.

Dimitri only clapped along, the equivalent of smiling and waving in the midst of chaos. Although he continued to watch the Golden Deer interact, full of love and light bickering, Dimitri _was_ curious to know how this relationship came to be. 

“If I may ask, how did,” Dimitri paused, glancing at each Golden Deer member, “this happen?” 

While Dimitri expected their answer, he _hardly_ expected them to answer at the _exact_ same time, by the millisecond. Claude’s green eyes faintly glowed once again, while Lorenz, Lysithea and Marianne’s eyes were just a _bit_ brighter.

“Marianne.” 

Dimitri’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline in disbelief.

“How did-?”

Claude put a finger to his lips, winking, “In due time, my lion.”

Ignatz pushed up his glasses, “Marianne drew us in, in one way or another,” Ignatz cast a tender look to her, smiling, “the more time we spent with her, the more we realized just how sweet she was.”

“Yeah,” Hilda added, chirping, “Mari’s like the glue that holds us together. We all fell in love with her while _also_ crushing on each other.”

Lorenz raked a hand through his purple locks, as though distressed, “It was _exhausting_ to deal with the tension between us, even more so with coming to terms with what our feelings meant,” Lorenz proudly smiled at Raphael, who grinned back, “and as expected, Raphael offered a simple solution to our complex problem.”

Lysithea ate a cookie before speaking, “At first, his idea was _strange_ and almost out of the question! And _just_ to spite me,” Lysithea burned holes into Claude’s head, without too much heat, “ _Claude_ mentioned his hometown wasn’t so adverse to these kinds of relationships.”

Claude sent her a teasing look, “I didn’t spite you, Lys, it was more of a much needed suggestion, my young maiden.”

Lysithea scowled, “ _Claude._ ”

Claude feigned surprise, “Oh no, Renz, I think it’s time we end the party and put Lysithea to bed!”

Claude smiled innocently in the face of Lysithea’s pint sized wrath, tuning out her rants with an adoring look in his dark green eyes.

“Love you, too, Lys.” Claude replied after Lysithea finished her rant.

Lysithea huffed, folding her arms and looking away. 

The conversation was quick to shift when Leonie and Raphael’s eyes locked onto Dimitri. Leonie smirked, quirking up an eyebrow as flames danced in her dark orange eyes.

“Hey, Dimitri, let’s spar tomorrow!”

Dimitri blinked, “Tomorrow? After class, I assume?”

Leonie shook her head, “How about I fight you instead of the Professor while you’re having class? You’re almost as good with a lance as Jeralt, and I want to learn from you.”

“Sparring during a lecture seems,” Dimitri began, twisting his face in thought, trying to politely turn her down, “distracting.”

Leonie frowned, half-pouting in confusion, “You guys don’t seem bothered when I stop by.”

“We are not, I assure you.”

Raphael pitched in, curling his hand into a fist and raising it.

“Yeah! We gotta train together, too, Dimitri! I can help you out with brawling, if you want.”

Dimitri smiled, “Thank you, Raphael, I’ll accept your offer.”

“Sweet!”

Claude weaved over to Dimitri, too comfortable to walk to him, deciding to roll, instead. He glanced up at Dimitri before dragging him down to sit with him. A smile bloomed on his face, looking at Leonie and back at Dimitri.

“Dimitri, my poor lion, there is no escaping Leo’s determination. She _will_ make you her rival, no matter what you say.”

Dimitri balked, glancing at Leonie, who only agreed with Claude’s words by nodding.

“Very well.”

The Golden Deer and the leading member of the Blue Lions talked, with Dimitri being quite lost with the amount of inside jokes going over his head, save for a playful jab at Lorenz’s haircut, which, although hypocritical to agree with; as Dimitri’s hair wasn’t all _that_ good looking, was hilarious. 

“Alright, everyone. It’s getting pretty late, so let me bring Dima to his room.” Claude announced.

Claude stood up, stretching his legs and arms.

“Before we go, let’s give Dimitri a nice send off.”

Claude grinned, bringing his hands to the sides of his head. He spread out his fingers, keeping his thumbs at his temples. The rest of the Golden Deer followed along, some more enthusiastic than others. 

Claude opened his door, whisking Dimitri away. He carried half of the gifts as he strolled down the hallway. They soon stood by Dimitri’s dorm room. Dimitri found himself against the wall, chest to chest with Claude. He quietly sputtered, aware of the students still asleep. 

“Claude?”

Claude smiled, lightly bumping their foreheads together. 

“Goodnight kiss?” Claude asked back, unashamed. 

Dimitri went red.

Claude drew back, smiling a bit wider.

“Only teasing, I wouldn’t spring something on you like that.”

Dimitri _kind_ of hoped he did. He returned Claude’s smile with his own. Claude opened Dimitri’s door, setting the gifts down onto his desk, while the blonde did the same. 

“Thanks for that. Goodnight, Claude.”

“Night, Dima. See you around.”

Claude left Dimitri’s room, leaving Dimitri to reflect before trying to go to bed. He felt warm inside, happy, and just a little tired from the party. He surmised that the close-knit friendship the Golden Deer displayed made _sense,_ looking back. A hand lingering on a shoulder, there, haughty spiels slowed down to a minimum, turned into quiet, love-filled words, here. A tender look crossing a face far too many times, a group tea time with endless sweets for a particular Golden Deer member, long bouts of comfortable silence between them in the library, eyeing each other as if keeping a secret or attempting to hide a laugh.

Dimitri never would have guessed the Golden Deer were _this_ close, nor would he guess his feelings for Claude would be returned.

* * *

The morning sun burst through Dimitri’s window, burning his eyes. He let his eyes slip shut for a moment before getting out of bed. Shockingly enough, Dimitri had fallen asleep. A smile reached his lips. He glanced at a mirror by his desk, running a hand through his messy bedhead. Dimitri pursed his lips as he grabbed Annette’s spare comb and the hair tie. He carefully held them in his bare hands, slipping the hair tie over his left wrist. He combed his hair back, frowning at the stray locks of hair that stubbornly clung to his forehead. Dimitri tied his hair into a low, tiny ponytail. 

Dimitri got ready for the day, setting out for Friday’s lecture. Byleth’s class would begin in two hours, giving him ample time to train or have breakfast. He left his dorm room, striding down the hallway and coming to a stop at his three childhood friends standing by the end of the hall. Felix leaned against the wall, ignoring Sylvain, who slung an arm over his shoulder, draping himself over Felix’s side. Ingrid perked up, briefly pausing her conversation with Felix and Sylvain to look back at Dimitri. She smiled at him as he approached. Ingrid owlishly stared at his hair, so did Felix and Sylvain.

“Your Highness! Your hair, it looks nice.” Ingrid said.

“Thank you, Ingrid.”

Felix crossed his arms, raising a dark eyebrow, “So you’ve changed something else with yourself,” he shared an unamused glance with Sylvain, hiding away a quick, genuine smile, “your hair isn’t much of a rat’s nest, good.”

Dimitri would take the compliment, as well as the lack of ‘boar’ in Felix’s vocabulary. Dimitri offered Felix a smile, nodding in thanks, which, of course, Felix ignored.

Sylvain shot Dimitri a knowing, sly smirk, “Trying to impress a _girl,_ ” Sylvain put enough force into the word, using it as a cover up for Claude’s name, blissfully paying no mind to Ingrid’s scolding, “Dimitri? I think I need to write this down! _Dimitri_ being into someone?! Unheard of!”

“Sylvain.” Dimitri groaned out, embarrassed.

A soft smile erased the smirk on Sylvain’s face.

“It’s really good that you found someone, though. She’ll work well with you, and plus, opposites _do_ attract.”

Sylvain turned to Felix, threading his fingers into his inky blue hair. He kept the PDA to a minimum, going no further than a hug or quick as lightning hand holding. 

“I _would_ know, after all.”

“Sylvain, open your mouth again and I’ll stab you.”

Sylvain pouted, pretending to look dejected. Felix glared him down. The seconds ticked by and Felix’s resolve crumbled. He scoffed, swiftly turning on his heel and walking away. Sylvain followed after him, keeping his pace as he strolled next to a blushing Felix. Dimitri and Ingrid trailed behind them. The four childhood friends left the second floor dormitories, heading to the first floor dormitories outside. They talked, mostly about class and training as they conga lined along the wooden platforms of the first floor dorm. It was thin enough to prevent them walking in pairs or clumped together. 

The moment the childhood friends arrived, Dedue, Ashe, Annette and Mercedes stepped out of their rooms. Annette practically raced to meet up with them, smiling from ear to ear. _Somehow,_ she managed to bump right into a barrel resting against the wall. Annette grumbled, giving the barrel a stink eye. Mercedes hid her soft laugh by covering her mouth, checking Annette for any bruises. Ashe and Dedue walked nearly in tandem, with Dedue nodding to the rest of the Blue Lions and Ashe brightly saying good morning. Now united, the Blue Lions stepped away from the first floor dorms.

“Good morning, everyone. Did you sleep well?” Dimitri asked, addressing the group as a whole.

Annette made a face, “I _would_ have slept well if it weren’t for the assignment the Professor gave me! It kept me up all night.”

Dimitri tilted his head to the side, “Wasn’t your assignment on Reason magic?”

“Yes!” Annette groaned in exasperation. 

Dimitri hummed, bringing his fingers to his chin, “I hear there’s four Golden Deer students studying Reason magic, some longer than others. Perhaps they can help you?”

“Maybe. _Hopefully_?”

Annette turned to Mercedes, “Mercie, can you come with me?”

Mercedes blinked, blue eyes going wide in surprise. A smile found its way to her face.

“Of course, Annie. Maybe I can bake some sweets for them, too.”

Annette curled her hands into fists, pumping her arms up in delight, “Yes! There’s no way they’ll turn us down, now!”

“If I was any good with magic, I would love to help you, Annette. I’ve just been focusing on my bowmanship.” Ashe added on.

“Don’t worry Ashe, it’s okay. How was _your_ night? Was it any better than mine?”

“Oh yes, thank you for asking,” Ashe smiled warmly at Annette, “I slept in rather early, though.”

“That’s good!”

Ashe glanced _all_ the way up to meet Dedue’s eyes.

“What about you, Dedue?”

Dedue remained stoic, save for the _slightest_ twitch of his lips, “I slept well.”

Despite receiving a monotone, three worded answer, Ashe grinned as though Dedue took a star from the sky and gave it to him.

“I’m glad, Dedue.”

Dedue only nodded.

The Lions conversed with each other, walking inside the dining hall. All of the Golden Deer members were present, sitting by a table in the center of the room. Lysithea hid a handful of sweets in her arms as she ate her breakfast, Lorenz talked Leonie’s ear off, which she didn’t seem to mind, only raising an eyebrow at a few remarks. Ignatz gave into his fate, letting Raphael push his leftovers to him, eating away with a slight smile. Marianne and Hilda listened to Claude speak about _something,_ laughing as he wiggled his fingers with a smirk on his face.

The second Dimitri entered the room, Leonie briefly stared him down, dark orange eyes ablaze and ready to burn an entire forest to the ground. Dimitri offered her a ‘this is fine’ smile, to which, she chuckled, grinning back.

A few members of the Black Eagle House were here, too. Bernadetta rushed out the door, shakily holding her tray of food. Linhardt slumped forward over the Black Eagles’ table, folding his arms to rest his head on his right forearm. Caspar pat his shoulder, staying uncharacteristically quiet as he let Linhardt nap. Ferdinand cast a vague disapproving yet unsurprised look at Linhardt, sipping his tea. He glanced away when Caspar glared at him.

The Blue Lions settled into their seats before getting breakfast. They quietly ate their food, idly talking.

Dimitri paused, fork digging into a soft, fluffy pancake without any condiments. The rest of the Blue Lions _finally_ took notice of his hair. While others, namely Sylvain and Felix stared down the blue hair tie. 

“Oh my gosh, Your Highness! Your hair looks _great_!” Annette exclaimed.

Dimitri ate his pancake, trying not to blush at the simple praise.

“Thank you, Annette.”

“We _have_ to try different styles, right, Your Highness?”

“My hair isn’t that long, but I doubt that will deter you.”

Annette cheered.

Ashe peered at Dimitri’s hair, “Yes, even if it’s short, maybe you could pin it up, or keep your bangs out of your face.”

“I am rather fond of my bangs, and they’re unruly, too.” 

“Your bangs are shit, boar.” Felix replied not even a second later.

Sylvain choked out a laugh, while the others looked scandalized. Dedue seemed like he was a moment away from ripping a door of its hinges _just_ to get to Felix, but remained neutral.

“Thank you, Felix.” Dimitri responded.

“His bangs aren’t _that_ bad, Felix.” Annette countered.

Felix made a face, tightly pursing his lips. He only gave a dubious glance to Dimitri’s hair, then a defeated look to Annette, not bothering to make a scathing reply.

“It could be worse, but hey, with that new look of yours, you can _totally_ pick up that girl.” Sylvain teased.

“Sylv-”

“ _Girl_?!” Dimitri’s Blue Lions’ roared.

Dimitri shot Sylvain a pointed look.

“ _Sylvain,_ please do not say a _word._ ”

Sylvain smiled widely, not reacting whatsoever to Dimitri’s plea.

“ _Oh,_ ” Sylvain held the word, “yeah, Dimitri here is crushing on a girl,” he sniffed in mock hurt, “and he hasn’t said anything to us about it!”

“I wonder why.” Felix dryly answered, staring at Sylvain.

“Me too, Felix, me too.”

“If you mind me asking, what is she like, Dimitri?” Mercedes questioned.

Dimitri weighed his current options.

Most of them were: answer honestly because it’s Mercedes.

That, or lie, but he was terrible at it.

“Er-”

As if on cue, Claude dragged himself over to their table.

_No._

Claude and Sylvain locked eyes, calculating each other’s moves. The warmth in both their eyes faded into a practised dance of facades. Sylvain became much more guarded, an easy smile on his lips, while Claude kept an air of friendliness up. They continued to play mental chess with one another, leaving Dimitri feel a little unsettled.

“His Princeliness has a crush?” Claude asked, turning to Dimitri with a knowing grin.

_No, no._

Sylvain shared that look, smirking right at Dimitri. 

“He does!” Sylvain chirped.

The traitor.

“What’s she like? Smart, beautiful, perhaps?” Claude inquired, essentially asking about himself.

Sylvain pretended to think on it, “You know, I’m not exactly sure. His Highness came to us for help with his relationship woes, but never told us _everything._ He only said he liked her!”

“Sylvain, his _relationship woes_ are private, don’t go telling someone else.” Ingrid scolded.

Dimitri gave Ingrid a relieved look.

“But _Ingrid_!” Sylvain countered without elaborating. 

Claude cleared his throat, getting everyone’s attention.

“Why don’t we hear it from you, Your Princeliness?”

“I would like to decline.”

Claude tsked, “That’s an unsatisfying answer, and I’m not a fan of answers like that.”

Dimitri ate another piece of his pancake.

“What charmed you to her? Was it her _great_ and flawless personality? Or are you the type of guy to appreciate looks?”

Dimitri breathed deeply, trying not to shatter the silver utensil in his hand. He slowly turned to Claude, frowning.

“I like modest women.”

Claude snorted, “I’m sure she’s modest, would you like to continue?”

“No, but you won’t go until I spill my secrets. Is that right, Claude?”

“You know me so well! I think I’m swooning.”

“Please leave His Highness alone.” Dedue replied to deter Claude.

“Don’t worry, Dedue. I’ll get out of His Royalness’ hair soon. Speaking of! Your hair looks nice, Dimitri.”

Dimitri blushed.

“Thank you, Claude.”

“You’re welcome. Now! Answer the question.”

There was no getting out of this, Dimitri knew. Claude was one to push and prod, only stopping and restarting after a while when his target became too uncomfortable. Of _course,_ with Claude knowing the true identity of the mystery girl, he’d _never_ let Dimitri stay quiet. It was fair, in a way, Dimitri never really disclosed why he loved him, so this was the perfect opportunity to find out.

“Give me a moment, Claude.” Dimitri softly requested.

Dimitri lost himself to his thoughts, the healthy, love-filled ones. He felt his face heat up, a bashful, happy little smile growing on his lips.

“Yes, I have a _crush_ on a girl,” Dimitri couldn’t bear to meet Claude’s eyes, so he stared at his half-eaten pancakes, “it’s foolish of me, I think, to believe I fell in love with her the moment I saw her.”

Claude was oddly quiet. The Blue Lions let Dimitri continue.

“But, she is _breathtaking._ How could I not admire the way she looks? Her hair, her eyes,” Dimitri shook his head as his voice gained a reverent, almost worshiping tone to it, “the image I carved of her _did_ change when she opened her mouth, I wasn’t expecting her to be so, _so,_ teasing, I suppose.”

“She was closed off, however. It made me,” Dimitri frowned, frustrated at himself for thinking this, “unsettled, at first. She would always smile, but it never reached her eyes. She often talked on and on, never telling me anything about herself, until one day, she did. I was so _happy_ when she did. I think it was because I made her laugh, truly laugh, it was such a nice sound, too.”

“When she smiled at me, that day, I felt so warm inside. That smile she wore was so beautiful,” Dimitri ended up muttering his next words, unintentionally, “her eyes practically _shone_ like the stars she loves so much. And her _eyebrows,_ good _Goddess,_ her eyebrows.”

“It’s silly, but I thought she was like a being in a fairytale.”

“A fairytale?” Claude asked, voice high pitched and threatening to crack.

“Yes, a fairy tale. She is a siren, a fairy to me, and I don’t think I’ll mind if she takes me away, like they describe in those tales.”

“ _Wow._ You _really_ like her, huh?” Sylvain commented in pure awe.

“His Highness _doesn’t_ have a crush, this is more like a romance!” Annette added.

“Ooh, like this one book I read on knights? A love story about a princess and her knight?” Ashe asked Annette.

Annette didn’t reply, but Ingrid did, dark green eyes lighting up in excitement.

“Yes! Wasn’t it _Breath of the Wild_?”

“You read that book?! We _must_ read it together.”

“Of course, Ashe. I think it’s a series, but I only found and read two of them. I _think_ I found a third, but never finished it.”

“I’ve read _Twilight Princess,_ it’s such a dark departure from the rest of the books, I heard, so I couldn’t stomach it.”

Ingrid nodded, agreeing.

“It is nice for His Highness to be happy.” Dedue stated.

“It’s certainly less annoying to look at.” Felix replied, feigning irritation and trying to hide his smile.

“Oh, Dimitri, I’m so happy for you. I hope she returns your feelings.” Mercedes softly called.

“I- thank you for your support, everyone.”

Dimitri stole a glance at Claude, feeling a little brave. His mouth slightly hung open.

Claude was blushing.

Really, _really_ hard.

His entire face was beet red, forest green eyes going wide, pupils dilating. His left hand covered the lower half of his face, hiding his lips. He shifted his weight on one foot, avoiding Dimitri’s gaze when he caught him looking. 

“W-Well, would you look at the time! Suddenly, I’m _super_ busy and _really_ satisfied with Dima- Dimitri’s- _His Highness’_ answer. Okay, great, _goodbye_!”

Claude turned on his heel, speed walking away. He _almost_ tripped over his own feet, something Dimitri has _never_ seen happen before. Claude was _always_ in control, always was one step ahead, shrouding his secrets and vulnerabilities with an air of mystery. Dimitri continued to watch Claude stumble, sinking into his seat and covering his face with his hands. He pounded a fist against the table, letting out a stream of words Dimitri couldn’t catch.

Claude’s Golden Deer looked over to Dimitri’s table, each person raising an eyebrow, save for Ignatz and Marianne. They stared at him, while Hilda tore her gaze away, patting Claude on the shoulder. 

“Is Claude feeling alright?” Mercedes asked in concern.

Felix surprisingly saved Dimitri the trouble of replying.

“He was just laughing at the boar, nothing more, nothing less.”

Sylvain chipped in, “Yeah, the guy’s face _was_ pretty red.”

The Blue Lions somehow believed them. 

Soon enough, the Blue Lions finished up their breakfast, leaving for their classroom. Felix eyed Dimitri, grunting to get his attention.

“You owe me a sparring match.”

“Very well, Felix.”

The Blue Lions settled into their seats, waiting for their Professor to appear. By the time the Blue Lions sat down, Byleth walked inside. They placed the Sword of the Creator by the wall behind them, letting it lean against the brick wall. Byleth paced forward, almost gliding over to the teacher’s desk. They sat in a spare wooden chair, putting their lesson plan and books at the edge of the desk. 

“I hope you all had a great morning so far, you can tell me later. Class is now in session. Make sure to prepare for any exams, and Leonie bursting into the classroom at any moment.”

The Blue Lions shared a good natured laugh. 

“Alright, first question of the day, why is it a good idea to broaden your skills and focus on something else?”

Felix sharply rose his hand.

“Yes, Felix? You now have the floor.”

Felix lowered his right hand, crossing his arms, “The more skills you have, the easier it is to overwhelm your opponent.”

“Plus, it’s fun to learn new things!” Annette chirped.

“And it’s fun.” Felix added.

“That’s a good way of looking at it. Keep up the good work with your Reason magic, you’ll get there.”

“Thanks.”

Byleth waved their right hand, gesturing to the empty air.

“Alright, now for a hypothetical. You and your squadron are facing off a powerful enemy guarded by Demonic Beasts. If you get too close, you and your allies will be wiped out. What do you do?”

Sylvain held his hand up, “Cheat.”

“Elaborate.”

“If someone,” Sylvain glanced at Annette, “had a Gambit, for example, Stride, we could cut through the Demonic Beasts without even engaging them,” Sylvain tilted his head all the way back, meeting Ashe’s eyes, “and if we have an archer or two, we can take out the main target.”

“Smart. Good, Sylvain.”

Sylvain threw his head forward, nodding.

Like clockwork, Byleth slowly glanced up at one of the windows, catching a blur race by. Leonie skidded, grabbing a hold of the large door frame. She held two training lances in her hands, lugging them against her shoulder. 

“Good morning, Leonie.”

“Hey Teach, sorry, Professor!”

Leonie then whipped her head towards Dimitri, pointing _directly_ at the back of his head with a wide smile on her face.

“You promised me a sparring match, so let’s do this!”

Dimitri glanced at Byleth.

“Will it be alright if I were to spar with her?”

“Yeah, just don’t break anything and you’ll be fine.”

Dimitri rose from his seat, turning to face Leonie. Leonie tossed a lance to Dimitri. He caught it. They eyed each other.

Leonie entered a fighting stance, swinging her lance to the side and pointing it at Dimitri. A fierce grin was plastered on her face.

“For Jeralt!” Leonie shouted, gaining a laugh from Byleth and Dimitri.

Dimitri dipped his head down, narrowing his icy blue eyes.

“For honor!” Dimitri yelled back, humoring her.

Leonie made the first move, charging straight for Dimitri. He jumped back, only for Leonie to slide her foot behind his and harshly pull it back. Dimitri stumbled, earning a strike to his chest. He blocked the next hit, bracing her lance with his own. He quickly jabbed the lance into her shoulder, the hit light. Leonie grunted, sidestepping to gain some distance between them.

“Moving on, if you have a pegasus or a wyvern, what are some ways to avoid getting shot down by arrows?” Byleth asked the class.

“Dismounting, Professor.” Ingrid answered, eyeing the sparring match.

Dimitri strode forward, pointing his lance at an angle, striking Leonie in the stomach. She drew back, jumping away. 

“What’s with this, Dimitri?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re holding back!” Leonie accused.

“I have to, in order to avoid harming you or breaking anything.”

Leonie _scowled,_ “ _And_?”

Dimitri’s eyes went wide in surprise. Leonie gave him no time to reply, surging towards him as she yelled.

“Is it because I’m a _girl_?”

When Leonie missed her attack, glaring at Dimitri who dodged, she _punched_ him right in his face. Dimitri hissed in pain.

“That was unwarranted, Leonie.”

“You holding back is _unwarranted!_ If you’re going to do something, give it your _all_!”

“Truly, I would, but my Crest is-”

“Super strong, yeah, so is Raph. We all spar with him everyday, making it a competition who lasts the longest or hits Raphael more.”

Leonie deflated, losing a bit of her anger, “Besides, I won’t learn anything from you if you keep this up.”

“I get you’re scared of hurting me, but trust me, I’ll be fine. If I _do_ get hurt, I have Marianne, Lorenz and Lysithea to help me out.”

“They use Faith magic?” Dimitri ventured.

“Yeah! So, come on. Show me what you got.”

Dimitri slowly nodded.

If Dimitri was being completely honest with himself, he was _terrified_ of losing himself in the battle. Fighting viciously, relentless and bloodthirsty. This was a sparring match. A simple sparring match. The _moment_ he lets go, his body would sing in tandem with his ghosts, raging for a challenge. A _real_ fight.

“If you,” Dimitri paused, twisting his face into a grimace, “see something _unsightly_ in me, please call the spar off.”

“Call it off? No way, Dimitri! If anything, tearing down Prince Charming is _more_ of a reason to keep the fight going.”

_Is-_

_Is she insane? She must be if she truly means that._

“Very well.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, Dimitri leapt over an empty desk, charging for Leonie like a predator would a prey. Unlike most deer, the one before him grinned like a madman, choosing to clash instead of running away. The poles of their lances met, wood slightly chipping. Dimitri twirled his lance, hitting Leonie’s chin with the butt of the pole. Quickly, he flipped the lance over, pointing the dull wooden blade at Leonie, striking her in the chest. Leonie blocked the attack. She was pushed back by Dimitri when he grabbed her shoulder with one hand, shoving her. Leonie crashed into a nearby desk.

Worry sparked in Dimitri’s heart.

Leonie kept smiling at him, happy.

“I’m not going down easy!”

Leonie crouched down to the floor, rolling past Dimitri. She whacked the pole of her lance into his legs, but Dimitri was unaffected. _However,_ Dimitri didn’t account for the attack being a feint. Leonie reached for Dimitri’s cape and roughly tugged him down. The blonde fell to the floor with a thud, grunting. Before Leonie could pin him to the ground, Dimitri grabbed a hold of her and flipped the girl over with ease. He briefly loomed on top of her, unintentionally glaring at Leonie. Leonie slammed her forehead into his, quickly rising to her feet. Dimitri snarled, eyes darting to her. He got up. 

Dimitri expected her to have _some_ caution, or even a bit of fear, but no, Leonie gave him an _approving_ look.

“There we go! I like the way you’re fighting.”

Dimitri blinked, bewildered.

“I don’t think you should?” 

To back up Leonie’s claim, Byleth spoke up to the class.

“Yes, if you enter a fight being too stiff with your movements, you _will_ lose, and even your life. If you have to play dirty, play dirty. If you have to be aggressive or on the defense, do that so you can either win or keep your life.”

Byleth gestured to the brawl in their classroom, “That being said, holding back, spar or not is insulting. And in a real battle, there _is_ no holding back, you fight to live or you die.”

“See? The Professor’s right, Dimitri.” Leonie said.

Leonie climbed onto an empty table, jumping off a second later, lance pointed towards Dimitri. As soon as the wooden lance blade came close to his body, he grabbed it. His Crest flared brightly on the side of his neck, hands already starting to chip the wood. Before he could destroy yet another training weapon, Dimitri _swung_ the lance in one hand, bringing Leonie onto the floor. She tumbled slightly, rolling to right herself. 

“You know, I’m starting to see why that ‘girl’ likes your strength so much.”

“What?”

Leonie paid him no mind, standing up to fight. She engaged him once again until the two hour long lecture ended.

* * *

Sunday morning came. The Professor created a schedule, even for their weekends. Byleth’s three weekends were spent wandering around in the monastery, dashing and weaving past the halls and grand rooms. The Professor would talk to every student, inviting them to tea, learning from the staff, ending the day with a slew of fishing by the pier. Byleth would check on their flowers in the greenhouse, handing them out to the Golden Deer and Black Eagles students. 

The last Sunday, right before Byleth’s assigned missions, they set off and dragged the Blue Lions to do various battles. At times, Dimitri’s Lions would ask Byleth for help, going off on their own personal missions, bringing everyone along. 

An uprising was quick to boil in Duscur, survivors of the genocide hoping to reclaim their bloodied, ashen homeland. Men and women willing to give their life for such a cause. Worse still, Kingdom troops were called to action to stop it.

Just not in the way Dimitri wanted.

Ruthless, red hot anger, cutting the people of Duscur down like _dogs._

Dimitri knew, if the Kingdom army came, it would soon be in droves, a massacre in the making.

Whether or not Dimitri was a good man, a good crowned prince, he _had_ to quell this rebellion before things got bloody. For Faerghus’ future. 

For Dedue.

Dimitri clenched his fists, boots clicking against the wood floors of the second floor dorm. He speed walked down the stairs, ignoring the students milling about. He headed for the Entrance Hall, stopping short when he spotted the entire Golden Deer in front of the large double doors. Dimitri blinked, staggering back in confusion.

Dimitri glanced at Claude, then to the doors, then back at Claude again.

Dedue and Byleth’s voice faintly rang in his ears, getting past the thick doors.

“Were you,” Dimitri began, voice hushed, “eavesdropping?”

“Eavesdropping? _Me?_ No.”

Dimitri smiled in disbelief, moving to push open the doors. The Golden Deer quickly scattered over to either side of the exterior walls as Dimitri walked inside.

“Your Highness. You’ve returned.”

“Sorry if I kept you waiting-”

Before Dimitri could explain the situation to the Professor, the Golden Deer crashed into the double doors, nearly tumbling inside.

“What.” Dedue said, eyeing the sight in growing befuddlement.

Dedue quickly regained his composure, looking back at Byleth as the Deer walked over to the trio.

“There’s a rebellion in Duscur we need to stop, right?” Claude announced.

“ _What_?” Dedue repeated, blankly.

“A rebellion. Right.” Byleth nodded, as though they _already_ knew about it.

“And you eight are here because?”

The casual smile on Claude’s face was wiped away, hardening into something serious.

“We want to help. The Kingdom army will lay waste to the rebels, and overhearing some of the passing conversations in the monastery,” Claude scowled, staring down at the pristine floor, “let’s just say they aren’t big fans of Duscur. They want them _dead,_ ” Claude, for a moment, looked like he wished to say more, but cut himself off, “and we don’t, yeah?”

Dimitri slowly nodded.

“Yes, if there is a way to force the Duscur survivors to retreat, then the needless bloodshed,” Dimitri’s voice trailed off, stopping.

“Won’t happen. Besides, more the merrier, right? Teach _is_ strong, no doubt about that, but are your Lions and two other people, say Catherine or Seteth enough?”

“I suppose you’re right, Claude. We may need to join forces if the worst comes to pass.”

“There isn’t a _may._ It’s a must.” Leonie declared.

The rest of the Golden Deer rallied behind Leonie and their leader.

Dimitri firmly nodded, “Professor, if you will, bring the Blue Lions to the entrance hall. We will depart shortly.”

Within three minutes, Byleth raced out the door and retrieved the Blue Lions, leading the way as the joint Houses began their journey.

Ashe and Ingrid stuck close to Dedue, pale and dark green eyes roaring with flames. Ashe reached for Dedue’s left hand, while Ingrid squeezed his right.

“I _won’t_ let you down, Dedue.” Ashe bit out, a vow, a promise.

“Neither will I,” Ingrid glanced at the dirt path under her feet, “I know I was ra- _unkind_ to you, my actions and words towards you are unforgivable, even with the grief I carry, but I swear on my lance, Dedue, we _will_ prevail. No further casualties will befall Duscur. _Not_ today.”

“Thank you, Ashe, Ingrid.” Dedue replied, losing a bit of his stoicism, the warmth clear in his voice.

Claude walked side by side with Dimitri, flanked by his Golden Deer. His usual smile still gone from his face. His eyes glowed, just as they did a few days prior, growing colder and colder by the second. His shimmering green eyes locked with Dimitri, briefly, then to Dedue. He snapped his head forward, never saying a word.

“Claude?” Dimitri called, worried.

Claude drew in a harsh breath.

“The Kingdom blamed Duscur of regicide. The _strange,_ non-Fódlanders. And they killed them. Razed their country without a second _thought,_ ” Claude’s ice cold voice dipped lower, quieter, “their culture, their language, their dreams, ash. It all fell to _ash._ ”

Dimitri felt _small,_ hearing Claude’s voice sound _so_ frigid. A violent hailstorm hitting everything in its wake like dozens of blades nicking skin. Wrapped in a blanket of never ending, never melting snow, icing over and turning black. _Dangerous._

“I,” Dimitri paused, gritting his teeth, remembering Dedue clutching his sister’s corpse, ready to die by a soldier's blade, remembering the dancing, roaring flames, “I know.”

“I tried, I _tried_ so damn hard to convince the council, to tell them Duscur _didn’t_ murder my father, that Fódlan-made blades cut him down, massacred my loved ones but- but they never- they didn’t believe me and because of that-! Because of _my_ failure, innocent men and women were _killed._ ” Dimitri harshly whispered, his heated, passionate voice a contradiction to the cold snow that was Claude’s.

Claude looked him over, surprise coloring his face.

“You did that? The talking to a _council_ thing, not you know,” Claude’s voice went soft, almost pained to some degree, “ _you_ didn’t do Duscur.” 

“Not directly, but-”

“ _You,_ ” Claude started, firm, “ _didn’t_ cause that. _None_ of it was _your_ fault. If you’re looking to blame someone, it was the council, the council of enraged yes men deciding it was a great idea to put the eye for an eye belief into a reality.”

The way Claude worded his clear cut declaration was like a _fact._

Grass was green. Lady Rhea was the Archbishop. Byleth was the only person who could wield the Sword of the Creator.

It _wasn’t_ his fault.

It wasn’t _his_ fault.

No room for rebuttal, no room for argument. Dimitri had to sit with this information because if he dared to even breathe a disagreeing word, Claude just might have his head, spewing logical rants and theories at him.

Even Claude’s Golden Deer, who naturally overheard the conversation because of their proximity, glanced at Dimitri as if to argue the same point.

Claude fell silent, reaching out to sling his arm over Dimitri’s shoulder, squeezing hard to reassure him.

For a moment, a single second, the ghosts surrounding Dimitri went quiet. They appeared without blood, without gore, marching along with the two houses. Their screams dimmed into faint, barely intrusive whispers.

A mantra of it’s not your fault, it’s not your fault, it’s not your fault ricocheted in his skull.

“Th-” Dimitri’s throat closed up as he spoke, croaking.

Tears burned at the rim of his eyes. Dimitri tightly closed his eyes, blinking them back.

“Thank you.”

Another squeeze.

“Have,” Dimitri shakily started, clearing his throat to no avail, “did something like Duscur happen to you, Claude, is that why?”

Dimitri’s voice quickly trailed off.

“Not exactly. I’m _different_ and people hate that. I’m used to it, though.”

“You’re used to it.” Dimitri dumbly echoed, frowning at how unaffected Claude sounded, as if it was a _normal,_ everyday thing.

Claude must have faced the same things Dedue did. Built up years worth of resistance to horrible slurs and attempted assault.

Did Claude have someone by his side to ease his burdens?

As quick as the question floated in Dimitri’s mind, he found an answer.

A lack of trust, weaving secrets, keeping an air of mystery while also being unreadable during casual conversation, never cracking the smile off his face, his eyes always eerily remote and unapproachable. 

No.

Claude didn’t have someone, or at least not during his childhood. 

If he did, Claude wouldn’t keep his origins a secret at all.

Dimitri squeezed Claude’s hand.

The two houses marched in silence until they reached their destination. Upon setting foot on the rocky terrain, Claude silently ordered his Golden Deer to spread out. 

“It looks like there’s two people up ahead, but it’s hard to see just how many Duscur warriors are here.” Claude pointed out.

Claude looked over his shoulder, glancing at Byleth, “Hey Teach, you think you can find out for me?”

Byleth set their lips into a thin line, nodding. Their eyes went wide, shifting from dark blue pools to glittering lime green. A black, thin ring formed around the Professor’s glowing irises. After a second or two, Byleth rapidly blinked, eye color returning to normal.

“Seven Kingdom soldiers and thirty three for Duscur. The leader is down south. Southwest.”

Claude didn’t bother to question just how Byleth knew that, but muttered a soft ‘thank you’ to the Professor.

Claude turned to his Golden Deer, “Split up. Raph, Ignatz and Lorenz head south. Leo, Mari, Hilda, Lys, watch out for each other and intercept the Kingdom soldiers as fast as you can. Ignatz, don’t forget to use your Stride gambit.”

“Where is the Kingdom army?” Claude asked under his breath.

“Northwest.” Byleth answered.

Claude nodded, “Alright. Teach, Dimitri and I will handle the leader.”

“ _Try_ and make sure no one loses their life today. We _got_ this. We have to.”

Claude’s Golden Deer complied, splitting off into their groups immediately, a far cry from the mock battle, lack of synergy and direction, save for Claude and Hilda. Hilda, who pretty much tagged after Claude, backing him up from the front lines, complaining as she did so.

It was now Dimitri’s turn to give orders.

“Everyone! Stay grouped together and _immediately_ go south, we do not have time to waste. As Claude said, we will lead the charge and take the brunt of their attacks! Be inclined to help the Golden Deer, as well!”

Each member of the Blue Lions followed Dimitri’s command, branching off with the male Golden Deer members. Dimitri, Claude and Byleth led the charge, with the blonde ready to be a target. Dedue flanked Dimitri, standing behind him.

Hilda and Leonie stood side by side, gaining a running start with Marianne and Lysithea following close behind. Leonie’s horse galloped as she readied her steel bow. She stopped at a small clearing, hiding in the trees. The hunter jumped back, getting off her horse, nocking an arrow. The Duscur man standing right in front of her yelled out a battlecry, raising his iron axe. 

Leonie trained her eye on her target, shooting an arrow and hit her mark. The arrowhead pierced his right shoulder. She placed another arrow onto her bow, shooting again. She missed, swearing under her breath as the man jumped away. He _almost_ got struck by the flying arrow. In retaliation, the Duscur man charged straight for her. He brought his rusted axe down. Leonie did a wide side step, half leaping out of the way. Leonie twirled, crouching near the ground and held her bow horizontally. 

“I’ll keep it simple!”

Leonie shot a third arrow, sighing in relief when it flew true, lodging itself into the man’s other shoulder.

“You haven’t come to kill me?”

Leonie rose to her feet, shaking her head, “No. We’re here to help you, so _run._ ”

The Duscur man grunted, narrowing his cloudy brown eyes, “Thank you.”

The man ran away, retreating.

Leonie glanced back to Lysithea and Marianne.

“Mount Horatio, you two. He’s a speedy horse, a little silly sometimes, but my boy’s reliable. I _know_ he’ll keep you two out of danger.”

Marianne slowly nodded, staring at Horatio with a soft smile.

“I believe you, Leonie. Thank you for trusting me, um, us with Horatio.”

“‘Course! Alright, Hilda, take care of the brawler up ahead, you can do it.”

Hilda’s pink eyes narrowed, pursing her lips, “I’ll try.”

Marianne and Lysithea mounted Horatio, with Marianne helping Lysithea up, much to her protests. Lysithea wrapped an arm around Marianne’s waist. Leonie whistled to her horse, gaining his attention. She pointed forward and Horatio trotted off. 

Leonie stayed close to Hilda, running after her as the pink haired girl rushed for the lone brawler. Hilda swung her brave axe outward, then above her head, striking the Duscur brawler hard enough to make the woman stagger back. Leonie swapped out her bow for a steel lance, twirling it above her head. She thrusted the butt of her lance into the woman’s stomach. The woman swiftly retreated.

Horatio galloped towards the three Duscur warriors. They blocked the semi-narrow pathway. The mage standing between the swordsman and the brawler, looked to be about thirteen years old. _Immediately,_ the brawler came after Horatio, hoping to knock the two girls off the horse. They reared their gauntleted fist back and _slammed_ it into Horatio’s side. The poor horse was pushed back, hurting Marianne in the process. She yelped, brown eyes going wide.

“No, Horatio!” Marianne called, worried for the horse instead of herself.

The brawler raced after Horatio, hoping to get another hit in. Horatio galloped in a circle, playing a game of cat and mouse with the brawler. Lysithea held on tighter, her free hand glowing with dark purple magic. A dozen short spear-like beams of purple magic surrounded the brawler, crashing down like a monster’s jaw, sinking into the brawler’s body. The beams vanished, morphing into a dome of explosive black magic. Despite the grand show of advanced black magic, Lysithea held back so the brawler could run away.

“Mari! Drink a concoction, come on! You’re hurt.”

“But what about the-”

“But what about _you?_ You come first, not Horatio and as for right now, _not_ the people of Duscur.”

“O-Okay.”

“Good.” Lysithea warmly replied as Marianne plucked a concoction from her bag.

Marianne drank one, healing her wounds. After she put the vial away, Horatio trot backwards as the swordsman advanced towards them. He was stopped by an arrow whizzing past Horatio, digging _right_ into his ankle. The swordsman was brought down.

“Nice try!” Leonie shouted.

Marianne’s palms faintly glowed yellow, getting brighter as a sigil flashed in front of her. She used a simple Heal spell on the swordsman.

“Now please, go.” Marianne softly requested, voice barely above a whisper.

The swordsman scampered off, yelling ‘thank you!’ 

This left the girls with the single mage. The boy stared up at them, scowling. A fireball danced in his left palm, swirling around his scarred hand as it grew in size. He launched the fireball at Leonie, the magic spell hitting her square in the chest. The young boy outstretched his hands, creating another fireball. It zoomed towards Leonie, knocking her back. The fireballs only heated up her armor, doing no harm to her, whatsoever. 

Leonie locked eyes with Marianne. Marianne’s eyes glowed, nodding. A pale red sigil sparked in front of her. Ice crackled along the ground, wetting the grass. It sharply _spiked_ into the mage, fading into twinkling ice shards once the giant icicles landed its hit. She cast Blizzard once more to force the boy to retreat.

“Not bad, Mari.” Lysithea said, clearly proud.

Marianne flushed at the praise, “Thank you, Lysithea.”

“Let’s hurry! We have to stop the Kingdom army before they make their first move!” Lysithea ordered, taking charge.

The rest of the Golden Deer agreed, running forward. Leonie whistled for Horatio, briefly looking back to see the horse follow her. The four girls were yet again blocked by Duscur warriors. A dark skinned woman with brown hair, wielding an axe, two men, one a mage, the other a brawler.

Hilda’s eyes widened like dinner plates as one of the Kingdom soldiers charged for the woman. The Kingdom swordsman snuck up behind her, silver blade glinting under the afternoon sun. He used the thicket as cover to remain undetected. 

The pure, unbridled _hate_ in his cold dark blue eyes terrified Hilda and Marianne, and disgusted the rest.

“You will _pay_ for your sins! Not even the eternal flames will claim you, _wretch_!”

Hilda’s head whipped to her fellow Golden Deer, pink twintails sharply following the motion. They were caught in a tense situation, since the girls somewhat boxed the Duscur warriors in. With the Kingdom swordsman hiding in the thicket, there was a chance the girls’ attacks would miss.

Hilda and Leonie shared a look, both nodding.

“I’ll try.” Hilda murmured, drawing back and leaving the clearing. 

“Hey,” Hilda raised her voice, shouting at the Kingdom soldier, “we’ll handle this from here!”

“A bunch of school children? As skilled as you may be, letting a _child_ die by those Duscur _demons-_ ”

“ _Alright,_ ” Lysithea hissed, “we _get_ it.”

Leonie swung out her arm, “Quick! Hilda, go after the brawler, Lysithea, take care of the mage. Marianne, back me up however you can.”

Hilda practically zoomed after the brawler, with her axe pointed low at the ground. She shouted, swinging the brave axe over her head, bringing it down hard enough to leave cracks on the rocky ground. The brawler braced for the attack, but stumbled a fair distance away. Hilda ran up to him to close the gap, “finishing” him off with another blow. She wiped the sweat gathering on her forehead, sighing in relief. 

Lysithea hopped off of Horatio, approaching the mage. A gold sigil formed in front of her. Glowing yellow balls of lights swirled towards him, bursting into a large blast of magic and fading rings. White feathers floated around the mage and vanished after a moment. Lysithea defeated him, watching the mage retreat. 

Leonie and Marianne silently communicated. Leonie traded her lance for her bow, nocking an arrow. She aimed and shot it, hoping for the Duscur woman to dodge. The woman did, leaping to the left. The _second_ she did, Marianne ripped a Thoron from her hands, launching the spell at the woman twice.

Leonie kept her eyes on the affronted Kingdom soldier, narrowing them. The woman escaped, much to the swordsman’s fury.

“We told you. We have this covered.” Leonie said, glaring the soldier down as she pushed past him.

The four girls ran forward, maneuvering around the rest of the Kingdom squadron. They blocked off the uneven, rocky hill. The Golden Deer members turned to face them, each wearing a glare on their face, save for Marianne, who grimaced.

“We _won’t_ let you take a _single_ step.” Lysithea hissed, pale pink eyes glowing.

* * *

Dimitri watched Claude slump his shoulders in relief. A faint smile reached his lips, dark green eyes lighting up.

“The Kingdom troops won’t be bothering us for a while, now.” Claude announced to the large group.

Claude stole a glance at Ignatz, eyes still glowing. The nervousness painted on Ignatz’s face vanished, shifting into the expression he wore when sketching. Concentrated. Bold, even. He firmly nodded, bangs shaking with the motion. Ignatz rallied everyone around him, calling upon Alliance monks. Annette did the same, covering the rest of the group Ignatz couldn’t reach. 

Claude’s Golden Deer set out on a path without their leader saying a word to them.

“Careful. There’s an archer around the corner. The Duscur man with an axe might be a problem, but we have Ashe and Annette.” Byleth informed.

“A man with an axe?” Ingrid questioned. 

“On the other side of this mountain.”

“Annette, Ashe! Fall back and defeat the warrior on the other side of the mountain. Everyone else, follow me!” Dimitri ordered. 

Ashe and Annette nodded.

“When you do, re-group.”

Ashe slightly widened his stance, aiming his bow up into the clear sky. Nocking an arrow, he pulled on the bowstring. It rebounded like a rubber band once let go.

“I _can’t_ lose!”

The arrow curved as it whizzed over the wall. A pained shout was the only hint that the arrow made its mark.

“Looking good, Ashe! Let’s meet up with His Highness.”

Ashe nodded, smiling at the praise, “Thank you, Annette. Yes, let’s, he and Dedue need us.”

With that, they tagged along and chased after the two houses.

Dimitri, Byleth and the rest of the Blue Lions ran off like the wind, swerving around the rocky wall of the mountain. 

“Dimitri. Fight the archer. Lure the rest.” Byleth blandly ordered.

“Great thinking, Teach!” Claude replied. 

Byleth dipped their head down, acknowledging Claude as they watched Dimitri dash up to the archer.

“Stand down and retreat! _Go_!” Dimitri shouted to the archer.

The archer’s face twisted into a foul look, glaring Dimitri down.

“I’m not leaving until I get my home back!”

Dimitri lowered his head, sighing, “I’m sorry. I must stop you.”

Dimitri reared his right fist back, slamming the blunt part of his steel gauntlet into the archer’s stomach. His Crest flashed on his skin, glowing bright blue. The archer fell, dropping their bow and tumbling a bit. They spat out blood, swearing in their mother tongue. Judging by the archer’s tone, albeit pained, it seemed like they were cursing at Dimitri. The blonde plucked an elixir from his satchel, placing it into the archer’s right hand. Dimitri drew his hand away.

“Go. I am not here to slaughter you or your people. _Please,_ go. Now.”

The archer groaned, staring at the sky for a moment. They staggered to their feet.

“Thank you.”

Out of _nowhere,_ three pairs of footsteps thundered in Dimitri’s ears. He looked back to see Lorenz, Raphael and Ignatz.

“As strong as you are, leaving you be with three targets on your back does not sit right with me.” Lorenz fretted, twirling the steel lance in his hands.

“We _are_ here to help, after all.” Ignatz added.

Surprise colored Dimitri’s face, “Oh, thank you.”

“No problem!” Raphael replied with a wide, sunny grin.

They stayed behind to engage in combat with the remaining Duscur warriors, Ignatz’s Killing Edge set aflame by Lorenz’s quick Fire spell, cutting through a lancer, not to kill, but to disarm. Raphael took down another with a few sharp punches. Lorenz launched a double Sagittae spell, missing his second attack. Ignatz followed through with an arrow to the shoulder, breaking the swordsman’s defenses.

None of the Golden Deer spoke to each other as they fought, yet, they fought as though they were one person. Knowing what to do, aiding each other without a single gesture or word. It was incredible to watch.

Dimitri’s Blue Lions, as well as the Professor caught up with him. Claude was the last to appear.

“We’re running out of time.” Byleth said, bland voice just _barely_ hinting at their anxiety. 

Dimitri grit his teeth, forcing the growing, overwhelming sense of unease out of his body.

“Annette! Use your gambit on me, Claude, Sylvain and the Professor! Dedue, go for the trees and keep your guard up. Ashe, stay behind him! Felix, Ingrid! Distract and if you can, take down the men near the Duscur General!”

Dimitri’s Blue Lions quickly followed his directions to a ‘T.’ Curiously, without prompting, Lorenz and Ignatz provided backup, with Lorenz standing guard next to Dedue and Ignatz behind him. A mage _instantly_ targeted Dedue, pale red sigil ominously flashing in front of them. Due to using the trees as cover, the first fireball the mage launched, missed. The second fireball hit like a _brick,_ making Dedue stumble back into Ashe, shouting in pain. The archer saddled next to the mage aimed for Lorenz, shooting an arrow. Lorenz stepped back, jumping up. A sigil formed before him. He outstretched his arms as he fired two Sagittae spells, defeating the archer. Ignatz and Ashe each shot an arrow, with the former ripping through the mage’s defenses and the latter curving his projectile. From a fair distance away, Mercedes cast a Physic to heal Dedue’s near grave injuries.

Felix and Ingrid darted off, getting the attention of the two warriors guarding the General.

“Don’t get hit.” Felix bluntly warned.

“There is a possibility of that happening.”

“Then make it impossible.”

Ingrid gave Felix an unamused look. She readied her killer lance, pointing it forward as she charged for the closest target. Felix ran around her, skidding to a stop as he faced the other warrior. He rapidly backpedaled, making the axe wielder give chase. Felix’s palms crackled with dark blue electricity, bursting at the seams and quickly discharging into a Thoron. It didn’t do much, nor did it seem to impress Felix, but it _did_ give him an opening to follow up with a melee attack.

On the other side, Ingrid seemed to struggle. An axe was brought down, striking Ingrid, stopping her mid-charge. She grunted in pain, stumbling. Ingrid just _barely_ recovered in time to dodge another hit. Ingrid winced as she leapt to the right, blood peeking out from her light armor. 

“Should I fall back?” Ingrid wheezed under her breath.

“Ingrid! _Idiot_!” Felix hissed, dashing past Ingrid to block a lethal axe strike.

Felix’s blade met the axe with a clang. He pushed himself forward as his Crest bloomed on his nape, half-hidden by the black-blue collar of his robe. Felix swung his sword, bringing the warrior down. His free hand glowed with gold light, sigil of the same color appearing an inch away from his fingertips. He held out his arm towards Ingrid without looking at her, casting a basic Heal spell. 

“Much appreciated.” 

“Whatever.”

The two warriors’ defeat paved the way for the Professor, House leaders and Sylvain. To end the rising tension, the four attacked at the same time. Byleth slashed their silver sword, leading to Dimitri punching the man in the face, Claude following up with an almost smug yell of ‘Shall we dance?!’ as a Cutting Gale violently swept towards the General. The General, of course, retaliated, swinging his steel axe into Byleth’s side, nearly striking them down for good. 

The Professor bit their lip hard, eyes briefly flashing light green. Dimitri tensed, straightening at the roaring yells and thundering footfalls that seemed to get louder. _Closer._

Dimitri’s mind warped. 

Flames.

A seemingly never ending amount of corpses on a long cobblestone pathway, some burnt beyond recognition. Soldiers cutting down Glenn, who had run with Dimitri in tow, shielding the young, devastated prince. A sword to the chest, an arrow to the ankle, bringing one of the _strongest_ men Dimitri’s ever known to his knees. 

“Wipe my brother’s tears again, wi-”

An axe to the head, splitting his forehead, blood and brain matter splattering, oozing. A gray-blue sea once raging with protectiveness, a spark of competition, morphed into a dead fish eyed gaze the moment the axe blade ruptured his skull and sunk into his brain.

Smoke billowed, filling Dimitri’s nose. 

People were going to die because of him.

Again.

_Again._

_**Again.** _

Dimitri’s breath caught in his throat. 

Amongst the haze of rising flames, the curtain of smoke that wisped around, trailing after the floating orange embers, a figure steadily came into view.

Black and muted, reflective gold cuffs. Baggy, semi-loose fitting black slacks and boots. A one-shouldered golden yellow capelet. No blood, no soot or ash. Glowing green eyes stared at him, concerned beyond belief, yet still carrying a strange air of neutrality.

The figure abruptly stood closer to Dimitri- almost _too_ close. They held out their hand to him.

“Didn’t you say you’d let me take you away?”

Lips curled into a smile, endearing, a little crooked. Those green eyes shimmering against the turbulent flames, twin beacons in the haunting night sky. They pleaded for _something_ Dimitri didn’t quite understand.

“Take my hand, Dima. Soar away with me.”

Dimitri hesitated, slowly bringing his bloody, shaking right hand to a waiting palm. The figure covered his hand with their own, quickly pulling him in for a hug. Dimitri bumped into their chest, looking up at a tan face. The strange figure embracing him vanished into sparkling green stars, leaving Dimitri to fall forward.

Dimitri rapidly blinked, rearing back. 

A mountain.

He was on a mountain.

The remnants of Duscur.

On a mission.

With his Blue Lions. The Golden Deer.

Dimitri’s eyes went wide. His head whipped to Claude. He looked a bit fatigued, dark green eyes losing its luminosity. A dozen of emotions flickered in his eyes, before stopping on crystal clear relief and a hint of guilt.

Dimitri ignored him for now, setting his sights on an equally worried Sylvain.

“ _SYLVAIN!_ Hurry, _now_!” Dimitri screamed.

Sylvain jumped from the sound of Dimitri’s voice. The Lance of Ruin’s sandy bone plates shifted and rattled as Sylvain raised it into the sky. His horse galloped towards the Duscur General, delivering the blow they _desperately_ needed, red-black lighting and glowing orange flames saving the people of Duscur.

* * *

After helping Dedue, the Golden Deer took to aiding the Blue Lions on their monthly missions. Of course, the _entire_ Golden Deer couldn’t drop everything they were doing, as they were also assigned missions. Dimitri knew, if Claude had his way he would _definitely_ sneak his Golden Deer out of the monastery. As a compromise, however, Lady Rhea suggested Claude send off two or three of his Deer to the Blue Lion’s missions. The Archbishop allowed for all eight members to join forces with the other House on Sundays, too.

* * *

It was Friday. Byleth’s lecture ended a mere thirty minutes ago. Dimitri thumbed over another small note, reading it for the third time today. 

‘You’re cordially invited to the weekly Golden Deer, now Golden Lions sleepover. Come at five before Lysithea eats all the sweets. Love you! Don’t forget to feer the deer! 

P.S. Again, you can tell your lions about us, no need to worry. 

Signed, 

Claude von Riegan, Hilda Valentine Goneril, Lorenz Hellman Gloucester, Lysithea von Ordelia, Marianne von Edmund, Leonie Pinelli, Raphael Kirsten, Ignatz Victor.’

If Claude allowed him, Dimitri would tell his friends. They had reacted positively to his mysterious crush, hoping _she_ would feel the same way.

He did.

Dimitri was strangely, a little nervous. He trusted his Lions, he truly did trust them. But what if they didn’t accept Claude? Let alone Dimitri’s interest in men?

Or really just Dimitri’s interest in Claude.

Felix and Sylvain, surely, would be fine, at most Dimitri would get a teasing remark and a few biting words.

But what about Ingrid? Even if she was happy for Dimitri, would she be envious of him? 

Or-

“Your Highness?” Dedue called, monotone voice subtly shifting in concern.

Dimitri flinched, looking up from the classroom floor.

Right.

To get it over with, Dimitri requested his friends stay back in the Blue Lions classroom. He glanced at his childhood friends. Sylvain and Felix slowly must have realized, yet again, that Dimitri had a little problem.

A Claude problem.

Even so, they looked worried. Felix hid it behind feigned annoyance that steadily grew genuine. Sylvain’s syrup brown eyes flashed with a message - ‘I am unafraid to beat Claude’s ass if he hurt you.’ 

Everyone was staring back at him, worried.

“Um. The girl I fell for. I’m- we- together. We’re courting each other.”

One by one, Dimitri’s Lions lit up. Ingrid smiled, a small thing, dark green eyes shining with joy. Annette gasped loudly, babbling on and cheering, shaking Mercedes’ arm in excitement. Ashe’s lips parted, pale green eyes wide in surprise before settling into a tender look. Dedue cracked a simple twitch of his lips, nodding.

Felix and Sylvain shared the same look, although Felix huffed, raising an eyebrow as if to say ‘get on with it.’ 

“However, she’s not,” Dimitri sucked in a breath, “a woman. It’s Claude.” Dimitri finished lamely.

Dimitri held his breath when something, or _someone_ crashed into his chest, wrapping their arms around him. Blonde hair slipping over her shoulder.

Ingrid.

A split second ticked by and Ingrid dragged Felix and Sylvain into the hug. Felix rolled his eyes, Sylvain laughed softly into Dimitri’s ear. The rest of his Lions hesitated before joining the hug, save for Dedue, who gently pat Dimitri’s head, unable to reach his shoulders.

“Your Highness!” They each called, minus Felix, Mercedes and Sylvain, happy.

“Fool, did you think we’d hate you for this?” Felix half-hissed.

“I mean,” Sylvain dragged the word, “you don’t really have the best track record for liking His Highness, here.”

“Sylvain, shut up,” Felix glanced at Dimitri for a few seconds, looking away, “It’d be stupid to hate you for liking Claude. _Though,_ you have bad taste, so I’ll hate you for that.”

“Ah, _there’s_ the balance.” Sylvain teased.

They all accepted Dimitri. The one part of himself he was willing to show.

“ _Thank_ you so much.” Dimitri whispered, almost wanting to cry in relief.

After a while, his Lions let go, all smiling warmly at him. Sylvain eyed the note in Dimitri’s hand, smirking.

“Sleepover? Am I invited?”

“No.” Felix replied before Dimitri could politely turn Sylvain down.

“Fine, fine. _But,_ Dimitri you _have_ to listen to me.”

“I feel as though I shouldn’t.”

“Dimitri! I thought we were _friends,_ brothers!”

“We are.”

“Exactly! So hear me out. _Sexy._ Sleepover-”

Ingrid’s hand flew right over Sylvain’s mouth. A muffled call of Ingrid’s name left his lips, nearly sounding like a whine.

Sylvain leaned his head back.

“Half naked! Just show up-”

“ _Sylvain_!” Ingrid and Felix yelled.

Felix sent a sharp elbow to Sylvain’s side as Ingrid covered his mouth again. Although Sylvain’s smile was hidden, his eyes shone with clear mirth. He rapidly arched his eyebrows at Dimitri.

“I’d rather not, it would be inappropriate.”

Sylvain rolled his eyes.

Dimitri turned on his heel, “With that being said, thank you and goodbye.”

Dimitri hurried out the room. He power walked to the second floor dormitories, falling face first into his bed once he stepped into his room.

There were times _Dimitri_ caught Claude staring. It was more of Claude allowing himself to be caught, utterly shameless. A tint of pink sprinkled along his tan face, eyes raking over Dimitri’s body, _especially_ when he wore his brawler gear on missions. It showed enough skin, _more_ than enough for Dimitri’s liking. Half of his chest exposed, his legs, too. Scars running up his pale body, faded burns. It was ugly. His body was ugly. 

_Yet._

Claude _really_ liked his body, his breath hitching when Dimitri flexed his muscles, straining. Falling into one of the pillars in the training grounds, heat quickly rising to his face as he watched Dimitri carry Raphael with ease.

Claude was certainly a strange one, to some degree. Liking Dimitri’s brutal, nearly uncontrollable strength, liking his body.

Dimitri kept his face smushed into his fluffy pillow, blushing as he pictured himself walking into Claude’s room half naked.

 _Absolutely not._

Dimitri rather wear his sleepwear, loose-fitting and leaving a lot for imagination. On the other hand, it would be a fool’s errand, since all of the Golden Deer _have_ seen his body.

He turned his head, watching the sky through his open window, waiting for the evening to break out. As the sky gradually shifted into a splash of warm colors, Dimitri roused from the nap he didn’t realize he took. He changed into his light blue night clothes and padded out of his room. By the time he walked over to Claude’s room, faint noise greeted him. Claude told Dimitri many times that he hardly needed to knock, but barging into his room as if he lived there felt wrong to Dimitri. It was Claude’s room, perhaps one of the few places he actually felt safe.

Dimitri knocked. The door opened, revealing Lysithea on the other side. A half-eaten powdered sweet rested in her powder covered fingertips. She grabbed a hold of Dimitri’s collar, pulling him into the room and shutting the door. Several candles were lit into the darkening room, along with the natural light spilling from the window. 

Ignatz stared at the expensive, high quality paints by his feet, casting an embarrassed yet thankful look to Lorenz. Lorenz drank steaming tea from a dove white tea cup, otherwise plain if not for the lavender vines wrapped around the rim. He wore a pitch black silk glove over his left hand. The ring and pinky finger were left fingerless. Lorenz gestured to Marianne, talking to her. The shy girl had a cherry wood beaded bracelet, fitting snug on her right wrist. A golden cut gem replaced one of the beads. Lysithea fiendishly tore through a basket of different sweets, glaring down Raphael who tried to reach out for one. Hilda sat in front of Claude, somewhat leaning against him. Claude had a couple of cherry hairpins around him, close to his knees as he quickly finished up braiding her long hair. He tied the twin braids with red hair ties, parting Hilda’s bangs to the left. Claude secured the bangs in its place with two pins, running his hand along the braids.

Dimitri noticed a band on his index finger. A Speed ring, it seemed. His other hand; his left, there was a black-white beaded bracelet on his wrist. Faint dark green energy outlined the beads.

“Oh hey, Dimitri. Come, sit down!” Claude greeted with a wide smile.

Dimitri walked over to Claude, sitting next to him. 

“Good evening, Claude, everyone.”

They exchanged greetings, smiling at Dimitri.

“Alright, guys! It is _time._ ” Claude announced, leaving Dimitri in the dark as some of the Golden Deer _instantly_ shot whatever he planned down.

“Lysithea, I’ll bake you cookies from my hometown for a week, come on! Renz, I won’t insult your terrible haircut. Starting now for ten minutes, at _least._ ”

“ _Claude._ ” Lorenz warned, affronted.

“Lorenz, my good sir, you and your hair is wonderful.”

“I cannot believe you.”

“What’s wrong, Lorenz?” Claude innocently asked, staring at him with a slight smile.

Lorenz huffed. 

“Anyway, up, up.” Claude more or less ordered, rising to his feet.

The Golden Deer reluctantly got up, save for Leonie and Raphael. Dimitri followed Claude’s instructions, confused. Eyes glowing, Claude laughed as his Deer formed a ring around the room. He grabbed Dimitri by his wrist, tugging him forward. Claude led him by the hand, running wide circles in the room as his Deer trailed behind him. They ran around like this for thirty seconds, ending the strange race when Claude stomped his foot into the floor, howling with laughter when his lovers did the same. He fell back onto his bed, bouncing slightly. Claude dragged Dimitri with him and sat up.

“That was fun.” Dimitri said, still quite lost.

Claude’s eyes crinkled, reaching out to ruffle Dimitri’s hair.

“You’re cute.” Claude replied randomly, smile growing bigger by the second as Dimitri’s face heated up.

“I’m- ah? Thank you?”

Claude snorted, “Yep, _definitely_ cute.”

“Not as cute as you!” Hilda chirped.

“Excuse me, Hilda, I’m _handsome._ ”

“Hm, I thought Dimitri called you beautiful,” Lorenz stared at Claude, sipping his tea as he addressed Dimitri, “did you not?”

“Hey, today isn’t ‘Bully Your House leader’ night.”

“Oh, I _deeply_ apologize for offending you.” Lorenz shot back, not sounding sorry in the slightest.

“You and your _beautiful_ hair wounds my jaded heart, Renz.”

“How unfortunate for you.”

Claude tapped his chin, “You know, Lorenz, you’d look _really_ good with long hair. What say you, my sweet fiend Lys?”

Lysithea glared at Claude before setting her pale pink gaze on Lorenz. She popped a cookie into her mouth, thinking.

“I can’t picture it without his atrocious bangs.”

Claude _wheezed,_ sobbing with laughter. He leaned against Dimitri’s side, cackling away when Lorenz started bickering with Lysithea.

Ignatz piped up, critically eyeing Lorenz as if he was evaluating a painting.

“Yes, I think he _would_ look nice with longer hair,” Ignatz started muttering, running through the logistics, “long hair fits his facial structure quite well, it’s already pretty sharp and defined, and if he swept his hair to one side like a curtain, he would- Oh. _Oh._ ”

Ignatz scrambled for his art supplies like a man finding an oasis in the desert. He hurriedly flicked his focused gaze onto a surprised Lorenz and back to his paper, roughly sketching. With a huff and an eye roll, Lysithea pointed her finger upwards. Her fingertip glowed a dark purple as a plum purple paint can floated near Ignatz. The lid flew open once it was set down. 

“Well, there goes Ignatz.” Claude said, watching the boy sketch some more, glancing down at his paper with furrowed eyebrows.

“I did not foresee becoming his muse.” Lorenz murmured, a little shocked.

“Ah, and all it took was your glorious, peacemaking bangs.”

“ _Riegan._ ”

“Gloucester.” Claude called, using the same tone.

After bickering with each other, the room settled into a comfortable lull. Idle conversations and funny stories were shared. Claude spoke about his new poisons, creating a sleep inducing drug. He tested it on himself, which worried Dimitri, but Claude just waved it off. Lorenz and Lysithea then explained their slow but steady study of Faith magic, vaguely one upping each other. Leonie talked endlessly about how she _almost_ beat Dimitri, declaring another sparring match at three o’ clock in the afternoon in the training grounds. Hilda shyly, almost nervously admitted that she was currently trying to put in some effort with her axe training, having Alois tutor her. Ignatz moved on from sketching Lorenz, already finished making a couple of headshots in different angles. With the outline in mind, he started painting, using graceful brushstrokes to fill in Lorenz’s hair and eyes. Raphael, of course, excitedly mentioned his altered training routine, with Ingrid helping him with his studies. Marianne softly talked about her horse, Dorte and the flowers she and Ignatz saw one day.

Two hours roughly went by as they spoke, laughing and joking around. Dimitri expected time to fly fast, but certainly didn’t know that the night would become introspective and _personal._ They divulged their secrets to Dimitri, and judging by the Deers’ lack of immense reactions, they knew, too. 

A second Crest, doomed to cut a life short. An emerald green gaze shooting to pale pink, a vow on a leader’s tongue. 

A fear of drowning in expectations a girl might not ever reach, choosing to believe she’s only set up for disappointment due to living in her older brother’s _perfect_ shadow. A near mirror image to Sylvain, playing dumb, unwilling to try, wholeheartedly thinking they were utter failures.

Using a status to pave the way for a proper future and united political party. Trading obnoxiousness for a grand passion, no longer charming noble women and instead showering love somewhere else.

An aspiration to become a painter, held down by unwanted knighthood, pushed by a father. 

A supposed terrifying Crest, rumored to turn the Crest-bearer into a beast. A curse causing a girl to shy away, hating herself.

In turn, Dimitri quietly, so _quietly,_ afraid of the reactions he might get, told the story of a boy haunted by the dead. Unable to sleep, left with damaged taste buds and toeing the line of insanity. A beast prowling in search of revenge because it didn’t know what else to do. It had nothing else. _He_ had nothing else.

Tears blurred his vision. A thud resounded in his ears. Dimitri found himself pressed snug against Claude’s chest. He felt faint rumbling from his chest, hearing Claude hum a nameless song. More arms wrapped around his shaking body. Warm hands, soft whispers soothing him.

They let him cry, let him scream until his voice gave out. The Golden Deer soon gave him space. Dimitri collapsed against Claude’s chest, fingers digging into his back.

“Can- will you- please take my mind off of this, Claude- I _can’t-_ I don’t think I-”

“Claude isn’t my name.” Claude murmured into Dimitri’s ear, telling him one of his many secrets.

“It’s not?” Dimitri choked through his tears, throat hoarse.

“Yeah, I had my mother help me. Claude is closer to my birth name, or at least that’s what she told me. It’s,” Claude paused, running a gentle hand through Dimitri’s hair, “Khalid.”

Dimitri nodded into his chest. Claude- Khalid kept talking.

“It’s an Almyran name. I’m, um, from there. The east.”

“I am not suited for hot weather, but I’d love to visit.”

“You- is that all you have to-?” Claude’s voice trailed off, more than a little thrown off.

“Is Almyra beautiful?”

“I-”

A disbelieving laugh left Claude’s mouth.

“This is the eighth time I’ve told this to _anyone_ and it never ceases to confuse the hell out of me.”

“Eighth?”

“Yeah, I sort of told my Deer. Well, Hilda _already_ figured it out, but was ‘too lazy’ to say anything, Lys cornered me into talking and she used the dreaded sad puppy dog eyes against me. I was scared, so when she demanded I tell her, I just slipped a mask on, and well, Lys was hurt by that. Not trusting her. When I eventually told the rest, they just rolled with it. Raph kept asking about the food, Ig went crazy about the artwork, Leonie made my mentor, Nader, her second rival without even meeting him. Hell, she dragged me out to the training grounds when no one was there,” Claude snorted, “except Felix, of course, and asked me to teach her some Almyran bowmanship.”

Another soft laugh, “Marianne was _very_ interested in the wildlife, colorful butterflies, parrots, lizards. She fell in love with my country _because_ of the animals. Lorenz, to my ever growing surprise, got over his shock to tell me it’s _good_ to have a foreign noble in the Alliance, let alone leading them. They just accepted me and I was _terrified_ of them turning their back on me, so when they still saw me as their friend,” Claude shakily chuckled, “I cried.”

“Ah, well, enough about _that_ big reveal. I know you’re curious about the whole glowing eyes thing, right?”

“I am.”

“It’s simple, really. We’re just talking to each other, but with our minds. The mages of the group’s eyes only glow ‘cause they have an affinity for magic.”

“If that’s true then, that vision I had during the mission- you were there?”

“Yeah, sorry about that. You weren’t responding to anything. It scared me enough to get into your head.”

“I apologize.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong, Dima. Sometimes,” Claude paused, sighing, “sometimes I see things, too. Nothing bad, just the occasional drowning or pillow to the face.”

“ _What?_ Who _did_ that to you?”

“People, nothing important, Dimi.”

“Yeah, _right._ I’ll use Dark Spikes T on them if I _ever_ see them.” Lysithea hissed out.

“Thanks, Lys.”

Dimitri sat a little straighter, still clinging onto Claude. 

“When I become king, I _will_ make sure others are judged, not by their Crest, or their skin, not even their status, but by their character. I _swear_ it.”

“All the better that we work together, huh?”

Dimitri’s lips curled into a semi-wobbly smile.

“Golden Lions.” Dimitri said.

Claude grinned brighter than the moonlight spilling into his room.

“Golden Lions.” Claude echoed.

Claude placed a butterfly kiss on Dimitri’s forehead, letting go to get up from his bed. He weaved around the many legs stretched out or criss-crossed on the floor, heading over to his closet. He opened it. A massive quilt fell out, quickly caught by Claude before it dropped on top of him. On the bottom of the closet lay two plain white bedsheets and extra pillows. Claude carried the quilt over to the center of the room. Wordlessly, Lorenz and Lysithea floated the sheets and pillows down to the floor, spreading the bed sheet out. 

“Commence the cuddle pile for Our Princeliness!”

The Golden Deer all settled onto the bed sheet. Hilda laid between Marianne and Leonie, holding their hands. Ignatz set his glasses on Claude’s nightstand with the help of Marianne’s magic, resting his head on Lorenz’s chest. Lysithea used Raphael’s stomach as a pillow, half curling into a ball. Dimitri left Claude’s bed, dropping to the edge of the bed sheet. Claude rolled over, wrapping his arms around Dimitri’s waist. The quilt spread out, covering the eight students. One by one, they fell asleep.

Except the two House leaders.

“Khalid?” Dimitri whispered into the night.

Dimitri felt Claude shiver, his breath hitching at the call of his birth name.

“Yeah?”

“Do you trust the boar prince?”

“Nah.”

“Oh. I-”

Claude stared at Dimitri, lightly bumping his head against his. His green eyes illuminated in the dark.

‘ _I trust you._ ’

“But I’m not- I’m _violent,_ a monster, I don’t-”

‘ _You want me to prove it? That I trust you_?’

“You’ve already trusted me with your greatest secret, what else is there to prove?”

Claude softly smiled, bringing his fingertip to Dimitri’s lips.

‘ _This. If you want._ ’

“I do.”

Claude cupped Dimitri’s jaw with his left hand, leaning forward. He tilted his head up and pressed a soft kiss to Dimitri’s lips. 

Dimitri felt impossibly _warm._ Head to toe, hot flashes chasing up and down his skin. The hand on his jaw moved to his cheek, feeling like molten lava. Without even thinking, Dimitri flipped them over, shucking off the quilt. He hardly knew what face he was making, but he felt _drunk._ Claude _squirmed_ beneath him, eyes glowing as a stream of words filtered into Dimitri’s head. Some adoring, some in his native tongue, which he was quick to translate. _Other_ comments teetered on the edge of _inappropriate._

Dimitri kissed him, hands roaming Claude’s body. His right hand _instantly_ dove for Claude’s curly hair, threading his fingers through it. It wasn’t silky soft, no, but unexpectedly thick and coarse. Dimitri lightly tugged on Claude’s hair and the boy beneath him _groaned._ Dimitri’s hand left the bountiful curls, hesitantly hovering over his braid.

‘ _Go for it. I trust you._ ’

Dimitri thumbed over Claude’s braid.

Dimitri was losing control of himself, but somehow, it was in the best way possible. The saw blades and drills whirring in his head, shrieking and constantly distorting during his sleepless nights turned into white noise. His ghosts left and his body _sang._

Dimitri kissed Claude harder, roughly pulling onto his braid. Claude parted his lips, gasping and Dimitri deepened the kiss. Claude let him take the lead for a _split_ second before stealing it away. A breathy noise left Claude’s mouth.

Dimitri wanted _more-_

He promptly got a pillow thrown at his head. Dimitri broke the kiss, sputtering. His wide love-drunk baby blue eyes met angry pale pink. Moonlight shone down on Lysithea, making her flushed face more and more apparent. 

“K-Kiss each other later! And you! _Khalid,_ stop thinking! Stop it right now! I’d rather sl- _sleep_ than see,” Lysithea blushed _harder,_ staring at a sheepish Claude, “your dirty thoughts.” Lysithea whisper-yelled.

“My apologies, Lysithea.” Dimitri replied.

Lysithea grumbled. She then sent a heated glare to her House leader, flinging a pillow at Claude with breakneck speed. Their eyes glowed.

“ _Oof._ Alright, alright, I’ll go to bed. No funny business.”

“Hmph. How _dare_ you make me see those-! _Those_ images!”

“I’m sorry!”

Lysithea watched them with narrowed eyes before curling up and going back to bed. Claude snickered softly, holding Dimitri close as he playfully winked.

Dimitri eventually fell asleep, feeling at peace.

* * *

Just two days ago was Garreg Mach’s Battle of the Eagle and Lion.

Dimitri went out with his Lions to Gronder Field, hoping to win, fully intending to, even.

Well.

Claude’s silent, mental leadership won out. 

While the Professor and his Lions managed to defeat most of the Black Eagles and some of the Golden Deer, they suffered some losses, too. Annette was almost _immediately_ taken out by two arrows from Bernadetta. Ingrid was attacked by Leonie and Dorothea.

Dimitri attempted to bulldoze through the remaining Golden Deer, heading to the trees and cornering Hilda. Hilda was nearly defeated by him, but was saved by a quick Physic spell from Marianne. She stepped back to avoid being targeted by him again. Claude clashed with Dimitri, swinging a sword with heart-stopping grace and fast footwork. _Nothing_ like the swordplay in Fódlan. He grabbed Dimitri by one of the belts looped over his chest, pulling him forward. Claude’s lips ghosted over his ear, whispering something _very_ inappropriate. The Golden Deer leader winked, letting go as his irises glowed. Hilda surged forward, axe over her shoulder as Leonie came rushing from the side on her horse. By mere coincidence, Ferdinand _also_ snuck up behind Dimitri, shooting an arrow from afar.

After the battle, all three houses had a feast, laughing and smiling, knowing nothing of the shadows lurking in the monastery.

Yet.

* * *

Dimitri sat next to Claude, who scanned over a book. His Golden Deer did the same, save for Raphael. They were all holed up in the library, listening to Claude’s quiet theories about Crests and Relics.

“That is quite the theory you have, young man. Crests being the keys for the Relics, and the hole in the Sword of the Creator, hm.” Tomas’ voice resounded into the library.

A fake smile was instantly painted on Claude’s lips as he looked over his shoulder. 

“Hey, Tomas! You scared me, there.”

Tomas smiled back.

For some strange reason, it _greatly_ unsettled Dimitri. Compared to the near dead eyed gaze Sylvain had on his face when he used to flirt with a plethora of girls, or even Claude’s cold green eyes calculating someone’s _every_ move, Tomas’ pale brown eyes hardly seemed _human._ There was a _sick_ hunger in them, almost looking _beady._

Dimitri wondered if _that_ look was the expression Felix saw on his face two years ago.

He _really_ hoped not.

“My apologies, I didn’t mean to sneak up on you. I do mean to ask, what brought these theories on, my boy?”

Claude’s smile stretched into a grin. Fake. Plastic.

“My mind is racing with all these ideas, so give me a second, Tomas.”

Claude tore his gaze away from Tomas, staring intently at his open book.

‘ _Something’s off with Tomas._ ’

Dimitri nearly jolted out of his seat.

So it wasn’t just him feeling this way about the librarian. 

Claude looked back, turning to face Marianne.

“Hey, Marianne, like I was saying, there’s gotta be a reason why Teach can wield the Creator sword. It doesn’t have a Crest stone, or it looks like it doesn’t. What do you think?”

Marianne shakily nodded, meeting Claude’s glowing eyes.

‘ _Dimitri, talk up Tomas. Keep him distracted while Marianne figures out what’s up with him._ ’

Dimitri clenched his teeth, eyeing Tomas.

“Tomas, if you’ll allow _me_ to ask, do you know why _Miklan,_ ” Dimitri forced that name out with venom, “turned into a Black Beast? While we know it was because he didn’t have a Crest, he was able to wield the Lance of Ruin for a short time, without any issue. Do you believe there is something more?”

“Something more, you say? Perhaps there is.”

“Elaborate,” Dimitri caught himself, dropping his demanding tone, “please.”

“There _could_ be, but I must take my leave-”

“ _Wait-_ What if someone were to,” Dimitri curled his hands into fists underneath the table, “ _give_ a Crestless person a Crest? Would they be able to wield a Relic?”

“You may have your answer soon, just be patient.” Tomas crooned sagely.

There was something _very, very_ wrong hidden in his voice. Something _ugly._ Giddy, almost, like a child getting a beloved gift for their birthday. 

“ _Um-_!” Marianne squeaked, soft voice going shrill with _panic._

“Are you alright, my dear?” Tomas asked.

“Ye-Yes, I’m just f-fine. I th-th- I-”

“Marianne’s fine. She’s alright, you can go now, Tomas.” Claude gave Tomas a fake reassuring smile, hoping to get him to leave.

Tomas left.

Marianne looked _sick_ to her stomach. Tears pooled in her wide, _terrified_ brown eyes. Claude and Hilda reached over to hug her. The pink haired girl rubbed circles into her back, while Claude squeezed her left hand, humming softly.

‘ _Ro-Rotting, it was like h-he was rotting._ ’

Dimitri and the Golden Deer _paled_ as Marianne mentally continued.

‘ _His m-magic signature. It’s not right. There’s two of them- Faith, but that one is weak. The other one is- it’s parasitic. It’s almost like black magic, but it’s demonic. Stronger-_ ’

‘ _Then if Tomas isn’t actually our librarian, that means Monica must be the same. Monica_ shouldn’t _be so happy after being missing and kidnapped for a year. And I even overheard her talking with an_ entirely _different voice, too._ ’ Hilda surmised.

Claude rose to his feet, green eyes sharpening.

“We _must_ tell Lady Rhea.” Dimitri hissed under his breath.

Without saying a word, Claude turned on his heel and walked out. Dimitri and Claude’s Golden Deer followed him. Strangely enough, Tomas was nowhere to be seen. Claude swore in hushed Almyran, quickly shaking his head and marching on to the Audience Chamber.

Lady Rhea and Seteth were discussing something with the Professor, most likely a new mission. They stopped, eyeing the group of students hurriedly pouring in.

“Claude, Dimitri. If you are here to speak to us, let us finish discussing this month’s mission with the Professor. It is urgent.” Seteth explained.

“Our recent findings are _also_ urgent. _Please_ listen to us.” Dimitri stressed.

Byleth turned to them, the motion slow. They narrowed their eyes, vaguely angry.

“Tomas, right?”

“You- you _know_?” Dimitri exclaimed, blue eyes going wide, shifting into red hot fury.

“Then _why_ would you let him stay in the monastery?!”

“I would get executed for murdering a _staff member,_ ” Byleth muttered something under their breath, most of their words too quiet to hear, “already- too much changed- he dies, anyway.”

“What is this about Tomas?” Lady Rhea asked, growing concerned.

Claude stepped up to explain, keeping his face eerily neutral as Lady Rhea’s serene expression _slowly_ shattered in furious realization. For a _millisecond,_ Lady Rhea’s pupils morphed into slits. 

“ _Tomas_ tends to return to Garreg Mach near midnight. I will summon him here the _moment_ he arrives. You will do well to come to the Audience Chamber, when I ask. The Goddess will not save him.”

If Claude’s ice cold tone left Dimitri feeling anxious, Lady Rhea’s voice _scared_ him. Barely contained fury, perhaps even the same madness he had, seeped into her once calming voice. She almost sounded dragonic.

“Understood, Lady Rhea.” Dimitri replied, bowing. 

Lady Rhea let the students leave. They instantly _rushed_ out the door, going to Claude’s room. No matter how hard they tried, none of them could relax in the slightest. Dimitri, along with the Golden Deer waited for midnight with dread crawling up their spines.

A light rasp on Claude’s door made them all flinch. Seteth’s voice resounded on the other side. Claude got up, shuffling over to open the door.

A deep frown marred Seteth’s features. He strode down the hallway, increasing his pace once the students followed.

“I apologize if there is nothing I can do to ease your fears.”

“Tell me all your secrets?” Claude asked, trying to save face.

“I am not willing to disclose anything. With that being said, however, please do not involve Flayn in your arrangement.”

“What arrangement?”

Seteth only gave Claude a look.

“So, you know. What _else_?”

“I am aware of plenty, but what I know is unimportant for now. I will say, I do not disapprove of your relationship, I have no reason to and it is good to forge bonds with your peers.”

“Huh. I’ll take that.”

Seteth arrived at the Audience Chamber, students in tow. Lady Rhea stood at the opposite end of the room, watching Tomas. Her displeasure was clear on her face.

“No Teach?”

Lady Rhea set her eyes onto Claude, expression unreadable.

“The Professor has left with Jeralt and the Knights of Seiros to complete their mission.”

After a moment of silence, Lady Rhea continued.

“Claude, you may address your concerns about Tomas.”

Claude slowly nodded.

“Have I done something to bother you, my _boy_?”

“ _Silence._ ” Lady Rhea hissed out, acid dripping from her tone.

“Answer me this, Tomas. Who are you, really? I noticed that the magic coming off of you isn’t normal. _And,_ it’s almost like it’s killing you, or ‘Tomas.’”

Tomas’ face stretched into a wide grin with too much teeth.

“What a smart beast.”

Purple-black sludge oozed from Tomas’ lips. His body changed completely with a snap of his fingers.

“I am Solon, the savior of all! Prepare for your deaths!”

Lady Rhea steadily rose her hand, outstretching her arm. A red sigil flashed before her. 

“Know your place!”

A beam of baby blue light crashed down onto Solon, forming the shape of an arrow. Once the spell hit the floor, the glowing light splashed and spiked up. The surrounding area was bathed in light, engulfing Solon. Solon gurgled out a scream, coughing up blood. He trembled, taking a few uneven steps back.

Solon used a Warp spell, retreating.

The fading pink and blue lights painted an eerie picture of Lady Rhea. Her pupils constricted then morphed into a slit. For a moment, her irises glowed.

To Dimitri, Lady Rhea seemed like a vengeful, furious goddess.

Dimitri distantly wondered if things would go wrong in the future.

* * *

Dimitri felt a storm brewing amongst the calm. Remire village was salvaged, the townspeople cured, the water purified. The Professor and Jeralt safely came back. Solon had gone off the radar. Things returned to normal, which baffled Dimitri.

The White Heron Cup was held. Felix was chosen for the Blue Lions’ representative, much to his disbelief. He _won,_ also much to his disbelief. Felix took it seriously, adding a few dance steps alongside his swordplay in the training grounds, firing off non-lethal spells with each graceful twirl. Whenever Sylvain popped in, looking for him, Felix would fuss and refuse to meet his eyes.

Things continued to proceed as normal, upping the student body morale even more so when the Garreg Mach Establishment Day ball began. 

Dimitri stood on the sidelines, watching a sea of students slow dance. His head buzzed, the rumbling chatter and noise getting to him the longer he stayed.

Dimitri distracted himself, looking at the three Houses enjoying themselves. Ingrid and Ashe side stepped, following the rhythm of the music. Ashe was twirled and dipped by Ingrid, spinning him into Dedue’s hands. The trio swapped between each other, smiling. Annette clumsily took the lead with Mercedes, seemingly stepping on her feet, apologizing over and over. Mercedes paid her no mind, quietly laughing away.

Caspar aggressively danced with Linhardt, chuckling loudly. The shorter boy slipped a hand through Linhardt’s pine green hair, gently tugging his white ribbon out. Linhardt was left clearly awake by Caspar’s manhandling, but didn’t seem to care and let Caspar have his fun.

Dorothea and Petra hung back, talking to Bernadetta, who didn’t want to be here. She calmed down some and after a little coaxing, and began to engage in her fellow Black Eagles’ conversation.

Ferdinand smiled at the definition of death and gloom himself, Hubert, dancing away. He remained steadfast, somehow not irritating Hubert as he dragged the man into a flurry of rapid twirls.

In one of the corners of the grand ballroom, Sylvain was nestled close to Felix. Felix didn’t look amused in the slightest as Sylvain threw the mood of the ball out the window. He dropped to the floor, planting his hands behind him. Sylvain pulled his hands forward, bending his arms near his chest. He used a hand to propel himself, quickly spinning and twirling onto his back. He spread his legs, rotating them like a windmill. It was then Felix burst out laughing and pulled Sylvain off the floor. 

Dimitri’s frazzled nerves simmered down some once he focused his gaze on the Golden Deer. They all danced together, rotating dance partners with each other. 

Dimitri smiled.

His somewhat peaceful expression shifted into an owlish look. Claude pulled away from Raphael, leading him to Lorenz. The brunette strolled up to Dimitri, holding out his hand. Claude grabbed Dimitri’s hand and winked. Dimitri flushed red. They gently stepped back and forth, spinning each other.

“I’m not great at dancing, Claude.”

“Eh, who cares? It’s you I’m dancing with, so I’ll have fun no matter what.”

“If you say so.”

“That I do, My Beautifulness.”

Dimitri croaked, “Why must you fluster me like this?”

“Again, it’s fun.”

Dimitri pouted. Claude laughed at him, smiling sweetly.

“You okay, though?”

“I have bittersweet memories attached to ballroom dancing.”

“Let’s leave, then.”

Claude led Dimitri out the double doors of the ballroom. They walked along the school grounds, Claude taking in the night sky. Already, Dimitri felt a little less tense.

“It’s beautiful out.” Dimitri whispered.

“Yeah, it is, isn’t it?”

Claude tore his gaze away, turning to Dimitri with an adoring smile.

“But I know plenty of stars that are much more beautiful.”

Dimitri blushed, “And I know of a crescent moon surrounding those stars, making them feel loved.”

“You say such pretty things, don’t you, Mitya?”

Dimitri laughed, “I suppose.”

They stopped dead in their tracks at the sight of the Flame Emperor.

“ _What_ are _you_ doing here?!” Dimitri snarled.

The Flame Emperor dipped their head down, slowly looking over their shoulder.

“To warn you.”

“Of what?” Claude asked, narrowing his eyes.

“Tomorrow night, droves of a mysterious army will try to invade Garreg Mach. They will leave no survivors, so it is best you heed my words. Prepare and fight, or you and your allies will fall.”

“And how did you come across this information?”

“I do not believe that is important, is it? Lives will be at stake if you waste your time interrogating me.”

Claude scoffed, “It’s plenty important. You might as well be playing against our hand, leading that army yourself. You’ve already made your move by kidnapping Flayn all those months ago. And right now is the _perfect_ time to start again.”

“It would be an excellent opportunity. However, I have no use in killing children, it will give me nightmares.”

“You hardly answered my question. _Are_ you allied with this ‘mysterious army’?”

“ _Listen,_ you fool. If you wish to know where my loyalties lie, I will show you. Tomorrow.”

“Stop with the back and forth, if you say we’re _running_ out of time, just be transparent! Just _mentioning_ an army coming to kill us tomorrow _isn’t_ enough information to go by. _What_ army? _Who_ are you allied with?”

“As of tomorrow, I will fight by your side. I will bring my own troops to aid you.”

“And we are to _believe_ that you won’t stab us in the back?” Dimitri hissed, a hair away from losing his temper.

“Yes. I shall see you at nightfall. Cut a path and survive until then.”

The Flame Emperor Warped away.

* * *

The storm crashed, whirling violently into the night. Stars twinkled above, a siege below. Dozens, possibly hundreds of pale, sickly-looking foot soldiers marched onwards, running aimlessly towards the sea of students and staff members. Solon, Monica- _Kronya, Cornelia_ and two mysterious men led them. Several Crest Stone Beasts prowled around, waiting for orders or a poor student to approach.

Lady Rhea stood guard at Garreg Mach’s front gates, glowing sword and shield at the ready. At Lady Rhea’s orders, Catherine darted after the Professor, with Seteth soaring low in the sky on his wyvern. 

Adrestian forces rallied alongside Garreg Mach, Ladislava and Randolph downing incoming soldiers. 

To Dimitri’s shock and _relief,_ the Flame Emperor’s vague vow of alliance rang true. He fought off a few soldiers, with the Death Knight tearing through enemy forces like a knife to butter, muttering flowery, _stupid_ words about death. A ruthless assassin by the name of Metodey joined the battle, complaining that he wasn’t paid enough for this, yet eagerly killing anyone in his way.

The Professor told Dimitri to stay and protect the school, but standing idly by while everyone else was fighting felt _wrong._ Not when his friends, his _family_ were out there, fighting despite the possibility of death creeping upon them.

So, Dimitri _bolted,_ running straight ahead and into the fray. 

Byleth was locked into a fight with three soldiers. Two mages and one swordsman. Their pale, blank white eyes _slowly_ landed on Dimitri. 

“Dimitri! I told you to _stay._ ”

“I am sorry, Professor, but I cannot sit there _waiting_ while the rest of you risk your lives!” 

Byleth grunted, deflecting an incoming sword with their own. One of the mages created a purple fireball, hurling it towards the Professor. Byleth seethed at the burns festering on their skin. They flattened their palm, spreading their fingers out. A golden sigil formed in front of Byleth. They used a Nosferatu on the swordsman, healing their wounds as the swordsman fell to his knees, dying. The Professor swapped their silver sword for a pair of gauntlets Byleth reared their right fist back, slamming it into the mage that attacked them. The mage summoned another spell that Byleth avoided. Byleth retaliated, using a Fire spell on the gauntlets as they punched the mage again. The flames _burst,_ spreading out as it came in contact with the mage, disappearing out of thin air. The mage died, dropping to the ground as their body turned to ash. 

Dimitri raced after the remaining mage. The mage outstretched their gloved hand, dark energy spewing from it. Purple magic trailed along the ground, surrounding Dimitri. It seeped into the earth, making it rumble underneath his sandaled feet. Dimitri had a strong feeling he couldn’t outrun whatever magic attack this was. To test his theory, Dimitri jumped back, feeling the magic split the ground, chasing after him. The ground shook harder, purple light shining through the cracks and spiking out. Dimitri _ripped_ the lance off his back, metal threatening to break in his hand. He pulled his right arm back and chucked the steel lance as fast as a thunderbolt. The blade pierced the mage’s forehead. Blood gushed from the lethal wound. The spell leaked out from the ground like a beam of light. It faded. Dimitri felt the madness dripping into his veins, a sweet whisper pleading for him to give in, let loose.

Dimitri refused, even if the soldiers weren’t human.

Dimitri rushed up to the mage, pushing the lance deeper and punching them in the stomach. The mage keeled over. Dimitri pulled the lance out, swinging it to remove the blood. Byleth’s voice resounded in Dimitri’s ears, grounding him.

“Push forward, but be careful of mages.”

Dimitri firmly nodded. Byleth ran off in another direction. From afar, Dimitri thought he spotted silver-gray hair and orange looped hair in the distance. Byleth’s voice carried, ordering them loud and clear.

Ashe and Annette stood alone against a legion of growing, seemingly undead reinforcements. A mage with a large black witch’s hat kept creating them, raising a decrypted staff with a glowing red-purple orb. 

“Ashe! Aim for the weird guy! I’ll get him with an Excalibur.”

Ashe sucked in a breath, angrily glaring down the man.

“I’ll have to get closer, if I have to, I _must_!”

Ashe began to run off, but a _tight_ tug on his wrist stopped him. He whipped his head back, staring into scared dull blue eyes. 

“You’ll _die!_ There’s too many-” Annette cut herself off.

“If I manage to-”

“ _No!_ I think- I think I have a better idea.”

Ashe nodded, listening.

“What if I used Excalibur on you and send you upwards?”

Ashe’s pale eyes widened in surprise.

“Do it, I will not let you down!”

Gusts of wind swirled by Ashe’s feet, gradually picking up speed. His hair and clothes violently blew in the wind. The winds propelled him upwards, leaving him off balance for a moment. The winds kept him in the air, moving Ashe closer to the mage. The winds near the ground _spiked_ in pressure as it crashed into the soldiers. Once Ashe was _right_ above the mage, the winds slowed down. The mage focused on Annette, dark magic sigil under his feet. Black particles swarmed Annette, dispersing into dull yellow light and black mist. An explosion went off, leaving behind purple energy near the ground. The Excalibur spell stopped. Gravity began to pull down Ashe.

Ashe grit his teeth, aiming his bow as he closed his left eye. His arrow flew, hitting the mage between the eyes. The mage fell over with a scream, dropping the staff. The undead army nearby perished into dust.

Ashe’s heart stopped, sinking into his stomach as he fell out of the sky. By the seconds, he was getting closer and closer to the ground. Like a coward, he grimaced and shut his eyes, waiting for his death. 

Faint, _barely_ there winds kicked up. Ashe cracked open an eye, and then his right when he realized he was _alive._ An inch from the ground, his body was still intact. He glanced up, dread seeping into his heart when he saw Annette clinging to life, bloodied and burnt by magic.

“ _ANNETTE_!”

Ashe crouched, touching the ground before running towards Annette.

“Annette! Can you hear me? _Annette_?”

Annette struggled to raise her head, eyes barely focusing on Ashe. Ashe scrambled for his leather satchel, shakily grabbing an elixir.

“As-?”

“Shh,” Ashe soothed, “don’t overexert yourself, just breathe. Here.”

Ashe held Annette’s hand, squeezing to reassure her. He let go to tilt Annette’s head back, bringing the open elixir to her lips. She groaned in pain as she drank down the large vial. Annette gave Ashe a loopy smile.

“Thanks, Ashie.” Annette slurred.

Ashe smiled back, relieved. He had a bit of trouble picking her up, heaving out a strained exhale. Ashe darted off. 

Ingrid’s pegasus tumbled onto the ground, neighing in _agony._ A tomahawk found a home in its right wing, bringing the poor pegasus down from the sky. Ingrid crashed onto the ground, righting herself. She staggered, using her lance as support. The blonde rose to her feet, bruised but undeterred. A ghastly woman approached her, head to toe covered in dark heavy armor. Ingrid twirled her lance above her head and swiftly pointed it towards the woman. A glowing white light flashed onto the blade, coating it with thick frost. Ingrid jabbed the frozen lance into the woman’s armor, freezing it over. The ice seeped through, stopping her in her tracks. Ingrid rushed up to her, attempting to finish the job. The woman retaliated, harshly swinging her axe. The axe blade _painfully_ dug into Ingrid’s shoulder, shattering her metal spaulder. The woman ripped the axe out, bashing her shield into Ingrid’s head. Ingrid cried out, falling to the ground. 

Ingrid’s vision doubled. She squinted, disoriented. Her nerves lit up at the axe crashing down at her head, bracing the attack with her lance. The woman looming over her raised the axe, trying again.

The axe blade was a mere inch away from her neck.

At least, Ingrid would see Glenn-

An echoing, pained rasp left the woman’s throat. Dedue stood between them, heaving a silver axe over his shoulder, lodging it into the woman’s head. 

“Dedue-?”

Dedue didn’t answer. 

From afar, an arrow whizzed by. The arrowhead flickered with yellow light and flashed like a burning star once it dug into the woman’s throat, killing her. A blur of dark blue and gray rushed towards them.

Gray hair. Freckles. Pale green eyes.

“You’re both here?”

“Of course.” Dedue replied.

Ashe nodded. He offered Ingrid a concoction, which she gladly took. Dedue helped her up. The trio continued to fight. 

On the east side of the battlefield, Sylvain and Felix cut through dozens of foot soldiers. What seemed to be the last wave of soldiers slowly but surely boxed the couple in. A dozen mounted swordsmen and bulky axe wielding ghouls surrounded them. 

“Ugh, they just keep coming. So annoying.” Sylvain groaned.

Felix huffed out a breath, “I know.”

Felix grimaced, irritated at the fatigue seeping into his body. He _couldn’t_ stop, now. Not when Sylvain relied on him. Not when there was still a sea of enemies to take care of. 

“You’re getting tired, Fe. Let me cover you.”

“I’m _fine._ ”

Felix blocked an incoming sword strike with his shield, parrying the blow. He spun, tightening his grip on his Sword of Zoltan. The thick blade sliced the swordsman in half. New blood splatter caught on Felix’s stained sword and silk clothes. Felix freed a hand, casting a twin Thoron at an axe-wielding man. Electricity _burned_ through his gray heavy armor. Sylvain finished him off with a brutal swing of his crescent sickle, purple energy trailing after the swift motion. He beheaded the man, wincing when his head hit the ground, turning into ash.

Out of _nowhere,_ another man with an axe came charging towards Felix. The axe blade was pitch black, strangely glinting purple when the moonlight caught onto it. Felix couldn’t dodge in time-

Felix couldn’t _react_ in time.

A gasp left Felix’s lips, brown eyes going wide.

Then-

Sylvain shielded him.

Just like when they were children, Sylvain soothing Felix after he scraped his knee, Sylvain chucking off his coat and giving it to a freezing cold Felix, Sylvain briefly letting go of his fear and apathy of Miklan, defending Felix from him.

Just like when they went on missions. Taking hits and throwing himself in front of an enemy. Thinking his life meant nothing, the only thing mattering to him was keeping his friends safe. Keeping Felix safe. 

Just like now.

Standing in front of Felix, crescent sickle digging into the man’s chest, blood gushing from the deep gash. An axe slicing Sylvain’s right arm, melting his armor with purple acid and flames. Sylvain powering through the pain, yelling as he drove the scythe blade into the man’s still heart. The man dropped to the floor. Sylvain jolted, right arm going limp. Purple splotches slowly crawled up his arm, starting at his fingertips. The skin began to rot.

“ _Sylvain_!” Felix screamed when Sylvain slumped over.

Sylvain bit his bottom lip hard, drawing blood. His face scrunched up in pain, tears welled up in his eyes.

“Sylvain! I could have _dodged_ that, why would- _why_ would you protect me?! You-”

Felix conjured a Heal spell in a desperate attempt to save Sylvain, who seemed to be getting worse. It wasn’t working, the Heal spell _wasn’t_ working, and Sylvain was going to die- _Sylvain_ was going to _die._

 _Felix_ crumbled to his knees next to Sylvain. Sylvain smiled at him, hacking up blood.

“I wanted to.”

“You promised me, Sylvain.”

“I know. Sorry, Fe.”

“ _Don’t._ Don’t apologize, you _aren’t_ going to die, I won’t let you.”

Sylvain let out a laugh, airy and pained.

“I know you won’t. You’re stubborn like that, but- get out of here. Leave me here.”

“ _No!_ I’m _sick_ of losing people, and I _can’t_ lose you. Sylvain, _Sylvain,_ tell me- _what_ can I do?!”

Sylvain hissed, flinching as he moved his right arm.

“You’re not gonna like what I suggest.”

“I _don’t_ care! Just- _please-_ please. Syl-” Felix hung his head, electricity faintly thrumming against his skin, magic threatening to let loose under the stress, “ _Sylvie._ ”

Sylvain’s eyes went wide before softening into a tender look.

“Gotta cut my arm off. Before it spreads.”

A grim look settled onto Felix’s face. He ripped at his dancer silks without any hesitation. Felix thrusted the torn cloth to Sylvain’s lips. He opened his mouth and bit down. Sylvain smiled around the makeshift gag, nodding for Felix to sever the limb. Felix tightened his grip, raising his sword mere inches from the lower half of Sylvain’s arm.

Felix exhaled, clenching his teeth. His Crest flared on the back of his hand.

Felix brought the sword down in one fluid motion.

Cutting Sylvain’s arm clean off.

Sylvain _howled,_ the sound _barely_ muffled by the gag. Tears sprung from his closed eyes, wetting his lashes.

A _massive_ blue sigil glowed underneath Felix, a ring of light forming around it. Thunder _boomed,_ each strike shaking the surrounding area. _Everything_ in sight was electrocuted, the sparse tree line, the soldiers, even the ground. Grass was burnt to a smoking crisp, dirt _exploded._ When a keening sob left Felix’s throat, tears dripping down his face, the lightning only grew _stronger._ The dark blue thunderbolts crashed _violently_ onto the ground, leaving fires in its wake. It _rapidly_ increased in range, seeking out _Solon_ and his allies from _very_ far away. Felix leaned forward, pressing his head into Sylvain’s chest, screaming. 

The thunderbolts didn’t stop. 

Even as blood poured from Felix’s forehead, dripping down his face, the thunderbolts kept erupting. Felix started to feel lightheaded.

“Felix-”

Felix’s ears rang.

“ _Felix_!”

White noise drilled holes into his mind, filling it.

“ _FE_!”

Sylvain was calling for him. Screaming his name. Tears blurred his vision, but Felix still caught Sylvain’s bright red hair.

“ _Sylvie-_ Syl-! Sylvain, Sylvain, Sylvain-”

“‘m here, Fe. Alive, I’m alive.”

“ _Sylvain-_ you idiot, you _idiot-_ why? _Why_?”

Sylvain hoisted himself up, cradling Felix with his arm. The magic sigil shifted color, turning into a bright gold. The thunderbolts slowly died down, with the last crackling faintly onto the ground. Gold-blue light flashed over Sylvain’s upper arm, stopping the blood loss and closing up the wound. Eventually, the sigil vanished.

Felix passed out.

At the south side of the field, Byleth, Dimitri, Claude and strangely enough, the Flame Emperor engaged the main forces. Solon hissed out a curse, unable to move due to getting struck by lightning a mere minute ago. Claude leapt away from Kronya’s dagger. She snarled, gray face twisting in irritation. The brunette kept his distance, aiming his bow at Kronya’s head. He shot an arrow, watching the arrowhead lodge into her forehead. Kronya tore it right out. 

“Kronya! Enough playing with your food, _kill_ the vermin.” Solon demanded, voice turning into a pained rasp.

Dimitri surged forward, disengaging from Thales, leaving Byleth to fight him. He charged towards Kronya, left fist already reared back. Kronya laughed, weaving out of the way to avoid Dimitri’s punch. 

Kronya stood face to face with Claude. She stared up at him, smiling sickly. Claude swung his sword, but Kronya caught the blade. 

Kronya stabbed Claude in his chest, aiming for his heart. Claude’s entire body twitched, eyes growing wide. A pitiful, quiet noise left his throat. Blood trailed from his lips, spilling over his chin.

‘ _The dreams of men don’t amount to much. I’m sorry I couldn’t make it a reality with you all. Lov-_ ’

Kronya ripped the dagger out.

Claude fell backward onto the floor with a sickening thud, a small pool of blood spreading underneath him.

Dimitri stared.

He stared.

Stared.

His ghosts howled, crying and screaming, grabbing at the back of his head, demanding to be sated.

Dimitri let them, a rush jumbled, agonized cries from the Golden Deer joined the roaring nightmare in his head.

Dimitri killed, and killed, and killed, screaming until he cried laughing--

“Kronya! Enough playing with your food, _kill_ the vermin.”

Dimitri eyed the Professor in worry. Byleth shakily inhaled, eyeing him back. They seemed so distraught, uneasy, even.

Strange.

Byleth’s expression shifted, making them seem ten times older. Anger flicked in their eyes as they barreled over to Kronya.

“Claude,” Byleth’s voice was quiet, _horrified,_ “I can handle her. Stay back.”

“I’ll be fine, Teach. I’ve been dodging the wh-”

“ _Stay. Back._ ”

“Sheesh, fine.”

Claude darted off towards Dimitri, clutching his chest for a moment. The pair balked at Byleth, who immediately set Kronya on fire with a snap of their fingers. Each time the fire spell dispersed, a brand new sigil was created using the same hand gesture, burning Kronya alive. Her screams resounded in Dimitri’s ears, too shrill, almost warping his mind. The woman’s shrieks of pure _agony_ didn’t deter Byleth in the slightest. It seemed to egg them on, making the flames engulf Kronya’s disfigured, melting body again and again and _again._

A charred body remained. Byleth set it on fire, too, spitting on the ashes with a disdainful, _furious_ look.

Solon went rigid. 

“Even without the use of the Sword of the Creator-” Solon begun, dread seeping through his voice.

“Ha. Ha. Fire go fwoosh.” Byleth blankly interrupted, a huge red sigil appearing in front of them.

For a split second, Byleth’s eyes flashed green. The sigil changed into the same color, with the usually empty center bearing the Crest of Flames.

Flames _burst_ onto the ground, hazing everything in sight, as well as the forest outskirts a few feet away. Half of the field was doused in flames, killing Solon, Thales and Cornelia. Dozens of foot soldiers and Demonic Beasts were caught in the high rising flames.

Byleth snapped their fingers, pinching the bridge of their nose. The flames vanished into thin air. Puffy dark clouds swirled in the sky before enveloping it. Light rain fell upon the scorched earth, getting heavier by the minute, soaking everyone to the bone.

Pink beams of light surrounded Dimitri and Claude, fading away to reveal _all_ of the Golden Deer. They tightly hugged them, crying in relief that the battle was _over._ The two other Houses made it over to them, collapsing in exhaustion.


End file.
